As a writer I have a longstanding interest in nature and the world around me. For many years I have had a passion for the little things, for tiny, often overlooked or unloved creatures. Below is the beginning of a collection of poems that I hope will make you laugh, and also wonder about what might be hiding under the pots on your patio, or under a stone....
Great day for a snail
'An apple a day keeps the doctor away!'
said the slug to the snail
as they revelled
and chomped
chewed
munched
and crunched
their lunch with aplomb
tunnelling through
a discarded apple
lying in the grass
'It's a really great day!'
the snail replied
letting out a sigh
and a satisfied burp
as she slurped
her way to the core,
Wondering all the while
if this is what it felt like to be a leaf miner -
she had read about these
in a book chucked in a bin -
they spent their lives in the trees.
How odd!
She carried on crunching
since she was a committed recycler
reduce, reuse was her mantra
waste is such a crime,
if only those humans would learn!
She continued munching
while the slug awaited his turn
Yum!
You can download a copy of this by clicking on the link below.
If you enjoyed reading this, well why not read another? You may think I have a 'thing' for snails, as yes the following poem includes these popular garden creatures.
Ballad for a banded snail
With my home on my back
I love the freedom of the road
it may look heavy
but it's a light load
No mortgage or loans
no worry or groans
up and down many a leaf
and stem I go
I love to forage in your annual beds
nibbling
munching
and crunching my way through your veg
I am the bane of the green fingered
who kindly leave out bowls of beer
for me to drink and hopefully sink
down into a never ending sleep
I like to think
that I can fool you,
I am clever
only coming out at night
My only trace is a trail of shimmering
slime
and the scene of crime -
evidence of half-eaten flowers....
To prove that I am not always writing about snails, here is one to my furry friend the bumblebee. It is February as I write, and it shouldn't be long before the first queens emerge from their underground hibernation and start looking for a nest.
Ode to a bumblebee
In your furry coat
Of funky black 'n' yellow
You wake up bright 'n' early
When the days are mellow
Buzzin' around my garden pots
I watch you searching for a place
A nice comfy space
That you can call home
Somewhere dark 'n' cosy
You aren't fussed about the view
Being a humble bumble
Bee, you never grumble
As any old mouse hole will do
My garden hums with your song
As you zoom from bloom
to bloom,
All day long
In summer I can happily sit for hours
Watching as you pollinate my flowers
You are a social animal too
I would offer you a cuppa tea
But my liquid nectar
Is not the same as that which you collect, aaah
You can recognise faces
You learn and remember
new places
You even like to play
What more can I say?
You are just like me!
Not everyone appreciates woodlice. Many people like to powder them liberally with pesticide. A couple of years ago I was looking under my plant pots, and in dark crevices in the patio, under stones and I could not find a single one. Unlike other people I was concerned as woodlice are important for a healthy ecosystem. They are nature's recyclers, breaking down dead plant matter. Many, many years ago I would see loads and loads of these little creatures. Whenever I lifted a flower pot, there they would be, running around in search of a dark place to hide in. Now there are a lot less, and I wondered why this could be. My questions led me to contact Buglife to see if they had answers. They suggested that this could be due to the long hot summer. Well maybe. I am keeping an eye out. This experience, combined with my memories led me to write the poem below:
An elegy to a woodlouse
Underneath my garden pots
In the damp shadows
Where it was never hot
I would spot you
Roly polying around
You would scurry
In a hurry
As fast as your many legs could carry you
Whenever I lifted a pot
But today as I peek below
The hyacinths, daffs and pansies
You have gone…
Where?.. Can it be…no!
I don't dare think that
You could be no more
Pill bug
Doodle bug
Cheesey Bob
Billy Baker
Chiggy pig
Monkey pea
OK, so you are an anomaly
A crustacean hanging out on land
When you should be in the oceans and seas
But you are a great helper
Offering a hand..plus several legs
Munching your way through
Mountains of crunching leaves that
Fall every autumn
Is it because you are not pretty?
Having neither feathers nor fur
Lacking the 'awww'
Factor, that in gardens and cities
there has been a war
Raging against you
But I see your beauty
The way that you curl
Up into a ball
Is a true wonder of the world
You really are a cutie
And you do such a grand job
Or you did, that
I sob loudly
As I feel lousy
Realising pill bug, that you are no more.
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