My conscious mind
Is a butterfly
It flits from thought to thought
Sometimes it flits when it should be asleep:
There’s a lesson it must be taught.
My bigger mind’s a bullfrog
It sits deep within the dark damp soil
There, it prefers the peace and quiet and still
It spurns the temptation to endless, fruitless toil.
The butterfly thinks this
The butterfly think that
It thinks of things that must be done
Like Christmas Cards and Tax.
It thinks of things at 4am
When the bullfrog thinks, “Be quiet!”
The bullfrog opens wide his mouth,
“I’ll quell its thinking riot!”
“My great long tongue…
…will stop his fun,”
The bullfrog yawns with glee.
And thus the butterfly meets its end
In a bullfrog’s vast tummy.
Or does it?
Now, I have butterflies in my tummy!