Twas the night before countdown, July of ‘45,
Not a bomb was blasted, not even one tested.
The ugly metal globe hung by detonators and plugs,
In hopes of turning into a gigantic lighting bug.
“Oppie” inspected his creation with care,
Then climbed down the tower and gave a good stare.
Few scientists managed to sleep,
While others would silently weep.
As lighting pierced the darkness outside,
The storm pelted the roof like an ocean tide.
Brother, Frank Oppenheimer, feared without any hope,
The rain could drench them in a radioactive envelope.
When out of the camp’s pond came such a chatter,
To Frank’s wonder he was woken by frogs that had gathered.
Like the Last Judgment, rising from their burros in the mud,
They mated and procreated by the pond, all evening long.
Noisy squawks filled the air as more and more came.
Many more than Frank has ever proclaimed.
People tried to be quiet, but one went on a riot.
Some imaged unhappily, the dawn could be a catastrophe.
They knew this was a great accomplishment,
But hoped for some postponement.
Laying down their heads in bed,
Their hearts filled with utter dread.
Dreams swirled with frogs and rain,
While filling umbrellas poured out to drain.
The Trinity test site of New Mexico,
Became another Battle of the Alamo.
But Frank rose in the sunny morning to an extraordinary sight,
The amphibian nightmare was over, and over all that night!
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