LexiFrography ... © Annalieza Landa 2004

11/7/2009 - Photo

Detail from Plate 150 :: The Frog Prince, as manufactured by Poole (England) and painted by the artist Barbara Fürstenhöfen

Next > INTRODUCTION

Posted November 7, 2009 at 10:48pm

26 FROGS FROM A to ZEE, DEFINED in RHYMING POETRY!

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Why LexiFrography? Not LexiDography? Or LexiHography?

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My Mother collected frogs - all kinds of frogs: from the sophisticated (ornamental, jewellery, Native American Indian art, books) to the kitsch (rubberstamps, stickers, frog print apparel), you name it, Mum owned it - though she drew the line at the genuine article!

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Her passion for all things frog began after a visit to the Vancouver Planetarium in 1980 when she fell in love with one artefact in particular: a Native American frog helmet. She was delighted, some weeks after returning to the UK, to receive a letter from the curator, whom she had befriended, enclosing a photograph of said helmet. After that, there was just no stopping Mum. Providing the frog looked like a frog and wasn’t in a human pose - like the ornaments that perch on the edge of shelves, legs crossed holding an umbrella or such like - she would reach for her wallet.

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My perfectionist Mum was notoriously difficult to buy presents for, but post-Planetarium, gift shopping for her became a helluvalot easier! We didn’t have to look very far to find frogs - rather, they seemed to come looking for us!

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In 1998, Mum passed on post-op, unexpectedly and prematurely. She would never hear the audio CD of North American Frogs I’d ordered as a gift for her from the Smithsonian Institute, just two weeks earlier; it arrived in England days after her death (I have never had the heart to play it, to this day it remains cello-wrapped). An English teacher by profession, she had encouraged me to write creatively from an early age and, next to marrying a doctor, would have loved to see me published. A few years later, when living in London, I had the idea for LexiFROGraphy, a poetry anthology with a froggie theme for children. Here it is: and, whilst I pursue that elusive publishing deal, it will give me great pleasure to share it with you!

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Short poems sit alongside those of epic proportions. Most are humorous (at least, that was the intention!), many contain a spiritual element, still others are mini-morality tales.

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Whether you choose to read one poem or the entire anthology, in silence, or aloud to your children or grandchildren or yourself, I hope you get as much pleasure from them as I did from writing them. If I make just one person laugh, smile or coo I will be happy. To borrow from Larry David, I feel “pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty” certain that my mum would have done.

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How to navigate this site

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If time is a restraint (and when isn’t it?!), the Contents page contains links to each individual poem, so you are free to pick whatever poem you want to read from the list as and when time allows.

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If you choose this option, each poem will open in the same window. To select another poem to read you have 3 choices:

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Return to the Contents page by simply click the ‘Back’ button in your browser; OR
Select 'Random’ from the Menu Bar above, 3rd option in - look for the 2 cats then drop your eyes! (This is akin to shuffling through your iPod, you never know what’s coming next!); OR
Click the link at the end of the poem you’ve just read to go to the next consecutive poem in the anthology.

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I look forward to your comments. Tweet me or connect with me on Facebook to leave your feedback!

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♥ Peace, Blessings, Love and Light, Whoever and Wherever You Are ♥

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Annalieza

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Next > CONTENTS

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 10:37pm

The MAGIC MILL On FIREFLY HILL

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And Frogmill glows, a guiding light to lonely travellers in the night.

A firefly aura hugs the hill, home to Lexi’s magic mill.

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Lexi owns a magic mill that sits a-top a magic hill:

Firefly Hill the hill of fame, Frogmill is the windmill’s name,

Home to Lexi and her Froggery:

Lexi’s Frogs and LexiFrography!

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As twilight bids goodnight to day, a thousand fireflies come to play!

A thousand fireflies waltz to the tune of the whistling frogs; and Mister Moon

Having bid adieu to Sister Sun, beats his drum! Nocturnal fun!

His chorus line - a stellar fleet! - performs their tap-dance to his beat.

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The cacophonous sound of the crescent Moon, the whistling frogs

And their hoppy tune, grow faster and louder! Louder and faster!

Stars chime in with peals of laughter, as whistling frogs

And Mister Moon, race to be first to the end of the tune!

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The end is in sight now, the notes disappearing,

The frogs are in front, the fireflies cheering,

But now it’s the Moon as he makes a last dash,

Waking the Sun with his loud lunar bash!

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The stars jump for joy! Moon’s done it, he’s won!

The fireflies, frogs and the sun yell “Well done!”.

A cascade of bright embers descend from on high,

A shower of shooting stars from Mister Sky.

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And Frogmill glows, a guiding light to lonely travellers in the night.

A firefly aura hugs the hill, home to Lexi’s magic mill.

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Next ++> AUREOLE

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:53pm

A Tale of Two AUREOLES

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I once awoke to see a she-frog

Glowing in the night.

She crept up very silently,

I held my breath with fright!

She smiled: I felt no longer scared,

Her look was so serene.

Was this a ghost? A spirit?

Whatever could it mean?

Her face looked quite familiar

And then it dawned on me:

I’d seen her in some paintings

In an online gallery!

“Hello!” I said. “How do you do?”

And she replied, “I’m well. Thank you!”

No longer shy, but feeling bold

I asked the froggy, shimmering gold:

“Have you travelled very far?

You’re shining! Like a heavenly star,

You glow so bright from head to toe!”

And she replied, in gentle tones,

That made me tingle to my bones:

“An aureole describes my glow.

It’s like an extra-large halo!

When artists paint a holy soul,

They paint it with an aureole.”

“An Aureole? But that’s my name!”

“I know,” she said – and smiled again.

Her brightness filled the room with light

And in a flash – she’d gone!

Though every night I hope and pray

Again to see that smile serene,

I know my she-frog of the night

Is but a distant dream.

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Next ++> BAGEL

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:49pm

The Wholly Digestible History Of BAGEL

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I’m the frog with the hole in the middle! You see,

That’s why they call me Bagel (a good name, you’ll agree).

Bagels make a megayummysuperscrummy tea:

But I’m Bagel the LexiFrog. You can’t eat me!

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Bagel is a very peculiar bread roll

For there, in his centre, is a funny round hole!

He looks like a donut, but donut he’s not:

Outside he is dough-y, inside he is not!

Take a bowl, add some malt, water and yeast,

Our egg-less concoction’s a chewier feast.

His nickname goes right through his gut -

They call him the Cement Donut!

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But Bagel is not boring, I’m sure you’ll agree:

He’s the roll that’s extra-ordinary.

Sesame … Onion … Cranberry … Vanilla

Will tickle your tastebuds, give them a thriller!

Blueberry … Cinnamon … and if they won’t do

There’s even a Bagel with Everything, too!

Every Bagel is ready and willing

To be stuffed with a wholly mouth-watering filling!

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“Of every filling, Hoverfly Feast

Proves the one I favour least,

But Beetle Mayo is the flavour,

More than any, that I favour!”

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But who was the baker who took his bread roll

And gave birth to the bagel by adding a hole?

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We don’t know for certain, but here’s a theory:

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In the Seventeenth Century,

Polish King Jan (number three)

Riding his horse with determination

Freed Vienna from Turk invasion.

In thanks, a Viennese bakery

Created the bagel for King Jan (Three).

To look like a stirrup, they added a hole -

And that’s how the bagel was born from a roll!

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Just think – without the Turk invasion

And King Jan’s rescue of the Austrian nation,

The Viennese baker and his bakery

May never have known Polish King Jan (Three)!

So, would we still be waiting for the fab creation

Now enjoyed by every nation?

From London to New York to Paris and Hong Kong,

Bagel’s popularity grows daily ever strong!

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Like my namesake, I’m popular, too,

Daily providing amusement to

My younger siblings A to Zee

Who play with me so tirelessly,

Leapfrogging, as through a hoop,

My central space-filled Bagel loop!

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All Bagels love (I should just mention)

To be the centre of attention!

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Next ++> CHERUB

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:48pm

Turn On The Landing Lights: It’s CHERUB Airways!

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There’s nothing gives me greater joy

Than simply staring at the sky,

Watching giant birds

Of shimmering steel go gliding by.

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Or counting, in our Firefly pond,

Reflections of the clouds so white.

Like a light, each cloud goes out

And suddenly it’s night!

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So there I was, one summer’s morn,

The grass still wet with dew,

Wearing heaven’s sky blue hat

And coat of orange hue

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Counting clouds. I’d counted four

And then I heard a mighty roar!

I sat bolt upright. Golly gee!

A plane-shaped cloud flew over me

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Not once! Not twice! But three times! Four … !

Five! And six! And seven more … !

A trail of cloud fuel in its wake,

What a noise that cloud did make!

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If you had seen it, you would agree:

That cheeky cloud was teasing me!

It ground to a halt, performed a wiggle,

Then from its tail there came a giggle!

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From the hatch of the plane-cloud a cherub stepped out!

I couldn’t believe it - she looked so devout!

Why had this angel-child shown me no mercy?

She didn’t deserve to belong in God’s nursery.

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She said “Hello, Cherub! My name’s Cherub, too!”

(She knew my name! How? I haven’t a clue …)

“I’m sorry I scared you, my cloud lost control,

It’s my first solo flight and I started to roll!

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“I nearly crashed on top of you

Poor frog! You’ve had a fright!”

I’d never seen a smile so sweet,

Or eyes so diamond bright.

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How I loved her angel wings!

I’ve never owned such lovely things.

“G-d gives us wings to give us speed,

To travel fast to those in need.”

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“Can I try them, Cherub? Please?

I’ve always dreamed of wings like these.

We froggies are such ugly things –

Just once I’d like to wear some wings!”

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Thus my angel spoke to me:

“You silly frog! I don’t agree.

It’s what you are, not how you look,

That makes you pretty in my book!

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“But I am spoilt for angel wings.

I’m blessed with the best celestial things.

Cherub’s my name, so a cherub I’ll be

Or heaven’s no longer a place for me!”

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With that, she gave me her cherubic wings.

“I’ll wear them forever, these beautiful things!”

But Cherub was right – true beauty’s within.

If we’re beautiful inside, we’ll shine like a pin.

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“Well, Cherub frog, it was fun meeting you

But I’m late for the band - we’re playing at two.

I have to go practice the harp and the lute.

(I wonder if Moses has fixed my flute …).”

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I kissed my Cherub on the cheek

My heart a lead balloon.

I didn’t want my newfound friend

To leave my world so soon.

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I watched her as she climbed on board -

Destination Planet Lord.

We both had tears in our eyes as the

Plane-cloud turned and returned to the skies.

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But Cherub’s never far away -

Her wings stay with me every day!

Thanks to my generous friend on high

I’m Cherub the Frog: the frog who can fly!

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Next ++> DUSTY

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:47pm

The Notable Tale of DUSTY Springer (The Frog Who Lives To Be A Singer)

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Dedicated to the memory of Dusty Springfield, Icon of the 1960s

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Have you heard of Dusty Springer?

Style icon and famous singer?

She’s the frog who loves to sing

Loves it more than anything.

Sings her heart out to survive

For singing makes her feel alive.

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Singers play a special role:

Through their voice, their very soul

Is carried by the speed of sound,

To hearts and minds the world around.

All things stop to hear it pass:

Flowers, trees and blades of grass -

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Every man and every beast

Pause to let their ears feast

On the beautiful sound of a beautiful soul,

And every one, once more, feels whole.

Carried on the wind, the voice

As of a hymn, makes each rejoice.

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Dusty’s magic lures out

All their sadness, all their doubt,

All their fear, all their pain

Melting in her sweet refrain.

Dusty Springer sings her soul

Gives her heart and gives it whole -

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Tries to sing out all her pain

Tries so hard, but tries in vain.

Petals reach for rain and sun,

A river needs the rain to run -

Dusty thinks herself so plain,

Yet rainbows form from sun and rain.

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Sequins, glitter and wigs she applies,

Lashes of make-up frame her eyes,

Creating an image

Concealing the dame

Who craves, but

Cannot cope, with fame.

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Dance round your lily pads! Dusty Springer ROCKS!

Hear them applauding her on Top Of The Hops,

Tears tossed aside - raindrops in the wings

For Dusty is reluctant to discuss these things.

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Next ++> ECHO

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:45pm

How ECHO Found His Voice

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Echo stood on Firefly Hill,

All around was very still.

Echo saw the folk below

Hurrying to and hurrying fro.

Waving, Echo called “Yoo-hoo!”

And all around called “Yoo-hoo”, too!

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Echo found a wishing well,

Made a wish and promptly fell!

Whooshing past the well’s brick wall,

Wishing for a gentle fall,

Echo, splashing, yelled “Yoo-hoo!”

And – SPLASH! – the well yelled “Yoo-hoo”, too.

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The steps of Frogmill wind and wind!

One hundred and twenty Echo climbed,

Hop to the top! On Firefly Hill,

Echo’s friends looked smaller still.

Dizzy, Echo cried “Yoo-hoo!”

And all his friends cried “Yoo-hoo!”, too!

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Echo in a haunted house –

All as quiet as a mouse!

Echo in the ghostly gloom

Saw a giant shadow loom!

The shadow jumped and cried “BOO-hoo!”

And can you guess? Echo did, too!

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Next ++> FORTUNE

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:44pm | 1 note

And FORTUNE Smiled (That’s Why The Froggie Ain’t No Tramp!)

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Though Fortune’s smile is good and strong

Fickle fate may come, ere long.

Wealth may come and wealth may go,

The fortunate are they that know

True fortune’s not found in the bank

But in those things for G-d we thank!

Family, friendship and good health

Are really what is meant by wealth.

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Yesterday, I was a tramp

And no-one would come near:

Unwashed, unfed, the ground my bed

Made all who saw me fear.

Was it how I looked and smelled

That made them so abhor?

Rather, what they leapt from

Was the truth they saw me for:

For he who be bejewelled today

Tomorrow may be poor!

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Throughout the bleak unhappy times

My faith I clung upon.

I never doubted G-d would send

An angel-guide along.

In what form, I did not know,

But this I knew for sure:

That when she caught me

No more loneliness would I endure.

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Sure enough, my angel came,

A frog with heart of gold.

Around the heart within this tramp

I felt her wings enfold.

And now I’m thankful every day

That Fortune smiled on me:

With an angel’s love and a pad of my own,

I’m rich as rich can be!

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Yesterday I was in pain

I had not strength to leap,

I lay upon my lily pad

All day embracing sleep.

My froggy friends watched over me

So fearful of my state.

So fearful, too (I saw – it grew!)

That this could be their fate:

For they without health care today

May care when it’s too late.

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Throughout the weak and painful times

My spirit kept I strong,

I never doubted G-d would send

An angel-guide along.

In what form, I did not know,

But this I knew for sure:

That when she caught me

No more great distress would I endure.

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Sure enough, my angel came,

A frog with heart of gold.

Around my sick and ailing limbs

I felt her wings enfold.

And now I thank my lucky stars

That fortune smiled on me:

For now my limbs can leap again

I’m rich as rich can be!

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Next ++> GINGER

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Posted November 7, 2009 at 9:43pm | 1 note