Under a rock and hidden deep,
There lies a frog, he’s half asleep.
He dreams no dreams of kingdoms far,
But of being trapped inside a jar.
He tossed and turned throughout the night,
Not cold, he shivered from his fright.
The jar was sealed, the air was thin,
Not much air was there within.
So he gasped and strived for a breath,
And bravely waited for his death.
Another breath he drew, his last.
Before his eyes there flashed his past.
Startled now from sleep he woke,
Those aren’t the dreams for proper folk.
Thank god it’s all a dream, he said,
That I’m alive and am not dead.
With a cheerful yawn then out he hopped,
Onto the road, and there was squashed.
This shows that though you dream of dread,
You are sometimes better off in bed.