Once upon a frog

Once there was this frog

lived down a well, his bog.

All his life he sat and stared

as time passed his dark laird.

Above him he could espy

a hole of light in the sky.

Was he bored? Was he lonely?

No one asked; the answer his only.

Then one fine morning by chance

a maiden came by happenstance.

Their eyes met as she wept.

Her tears fell like rain. He leapt

to catch its sweet sad taste,

a wine to savor, not to waste.

The rain of tears soon ceased.

Then two stones fell upon the beast.

Quick was the frog to catch

this pair. And in his snatch

his tongue did greedy swallow

this (he thought) was marshmallow.

Sated, he looked up and beyond,

only to find the lady had gone.

He groaned. Unable to thank

the fair maiden he sank

in despair; despondent in the deep

he threw up. After a long sleep

he awoke a bowed, beaten bloke

and vomited all that food he took.

Out from his mouth in his expire 

two gems fell: one was a ruby,

the other sapphire.