Fergie Frog lived in a pond on Larson’s farm.
Outside the pond was danger and harm.
His tongue was a bug zapper, his croak so small,
But Fergie always had fun; life was a ball.
His parents told him to never roam;
Never leave his froggie home.
They were afraid for their son’s fate;
Afraid he would become froggie on a plate.
Fergie heard tales of Christmas trees and snow,
So searching for Christmas, Fergie did go.
He hopped from the pond, into green grass.
He almost became lunch for a speckled bass.
Fergie was curious so he never heeded,
What Momma said, though she pleaded.
He left home on Christmas Eve night,
Not thinking of winter’s chilling plight.
The frog heard a rooster, cow and a sheep.
They all yelled, “Scat, you froggie creep.”
Fergie stuck out his tongue and zapped a bug,
And laughing said, “Oh, chug a lug.”
White stuff was falling, must be snow.
For it sparkled and had a white glow.
Fergie made a snow frog and snowball,
Till suddenly old man slumber did call.
He napped on the porch of Larson’s farm,
Never caring if safe or coming to harm.
The front door opened; a farmer came out;
Awakening Fergie, with a loud shout.
“Oh, my,” the farmer said, “It’s a
Who was sleeping more soundly than a Yule log.”
Opening his eyes, Fergie yelled in fear,
“Oh, please don’t eat me, farmer dear.”
The farmer gently wrapped Fergie in a red sock.
He placed the frog beside the mantle clock.
Fergie wondered, oh, no what will happen now?
Will I become someone’s Christmas chow?
Farmer told a story of a baby born
In a manger on Christmas morn.
Then, lifted Fergie to the top of the tree,
So all the wonders little frog could see.
Mrs. Larson gave Christmas cookies to the frog,
He thanked them both, then went back to the bog.
Back to the pond Fergie hurried away,
He wanted to tell
his family of Christmas day.