a frog in my throat!
A Frog in my Throat © Celia Warren 2010
The mug of the Midlands was fogging my breath
And clogging my Lincolnshire lungs.
The frogs in my throat plagued me almost to death
With their teasingly ticklish tongues.
I coughed and I retched
In my efforts to fetch out
The frogs, so’s to tell them to hop it,
But all I achieved
As my poor shoulders heaved
Was everyone telling me, “Stop it!”
Now I live by the sea in green Devon,
Where the air is as pure as God’s heaven,
But it seems, when I moved from the Midlands, my frog
Moved south-westwards also, my footsteps to dog –
My footsteps, my intakes of every fresh breath –
The frogs in my throat may yet plague me to death.