Oh, stork so tall with legs like poles,

I’m a frog down here with dreams and holes.

You eat my cousins - that’s a shame,

But love is weird, so here I came.

Ribbit, ribbit, flap, flap, WHAM.

You’re a beak, I’m just a ham.

Take me to your nest up high,

Or eat me - either way, I’ll fly.

Your feathers gleam like spoons at dawn,

My love’s a joke, but play it on!

I’ll croak you sonnets, raw and slick,

As you debate: "To gulp Or flick?"

"Darling, I’m amphibious! You’re avian haute cuisine…

Let’s open a mismatched café

Fly-thru tadpole cuisin!"

Ribbit, ribbit, flap, flap, SPLAT!

Wedding bells or a snack? Hey, chat!

If love is just digestion’s spark,

Then swallow me—I’ll croak in dark!

Goodbye, dear stork… I see your smile…

Is that romance? Or just…

…worthwhile?