Mr. Frog Prince

Mr. Frog Prince tell me why

you change your ways to catch a fly.

Your charms, it seems, go underground.

You cease to hippy-hop around,

and use your lovely ribbet sound.

You hide that song and dance routine, 

to turn into a sly machine.

You float about on pad of lily,

looking really rather silly;

eyes agog, and mouth agape,

tongue just waiting to escape

out your mouth when buzzing sound

lets you know a fly’s around.

Out pops your tongue and down the hatch

goes your latest mid-day catch. 

Your diet, sir, unmasks your air,

for being suave and debonaire.

If a true frog-prince you’d become,

I recommend you hold your tongue.