Like the legless frog

I'm not too hoppy--

my tie is pilling,

my hat's gone floppy.

Underwater

I speak in bubbles

of an awkward past,

self-inflicted troubles.

And though I haven't met

many personal goals,

I sure as heck

love these tadpoles

and the lady frog

who lives with us--

sweetest gal in the bog

and a tough old cuss,

she'll chomp a fly

and then say grace,

which makes our home

an interesting place.

And if from above

we hear "anchor's aweigh!"

we'll either stay here

or swim away.

So my hat and my tie

are of little concern,

because I've got love

and love to burn.