Mrs. Murdock Hates Frogs

Mrs. Murdock Hates Frogs
She hates them more than she hates bulldogs
Even though she loves cats
I once saw her hit a frog with a baseball bat!
Mrs. Murdock hates liars
She hates them more than the director of the girl’s choir
She told us many times, I’ve written it down
One hundred lines without a frown
And yet there I stood and lied to her face
“There’s nothing moving in my pocket, Ma’am.
With all these rocks I’ve collected, there isn’t space.”
I showed her a rock and she sent me to my desk
Even though she frowned a bit, I think I passed the test
My hand gently cradled around my pocket indent
I sit down and smile, a model student
I feel a wiggle against my hand
But keep my face looking ready for my knowledge to expand
Mrs. Murdock begins her droning afternoon monologue
I cup my hand and pull out my smuggled treasure, a tiny little tree frog