Mr Wiggle Worm by Toni Newell

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Underneath the Ficus
Lives Mr Wiggle worm
In the rich moist soil
He can wiggle and squirm.

Wiggle worm
Looked around
It was cool and cozy
Underground.
There was much
Work to do
Churning earth
To let air through.
Enriching soil
Whilst breaking down
Organic matter
In the ground.
Mixing nutrients
On his way
Enriching earth
With leaf decay.
Wiggle worm
Doesn’t have eyes
Can sense light and dark
With cells specialized.
He doesn’t have lungs
He doesn’t have legs
He doesn’t have teeth

But he can produce eggs.
Wiggle worm
Is long and thin
Needs to be moist
To breath through his skin.
He has five hearts
He has no ears
Birds, moles and beetles
Are amongst his fears.
Up to ten years
His lifespan can be
If he is housed
In captivity.
But in the wild
I’m sorry to say
It can be reduced
If he becomes prey.
Harsh weather can also
Effect his lifespan
If soil gets too cold
Which it often can.
Wiggle worm’s poop
Is like liquid gold
Full of nitrogen
Often mixed and sold.
He’s a natural recycler
And works very hard
Maintaining ecosystems
In his backyard.

Mr Wiggle Worm
Lives under my Ficus tree
He hides from all above
Trying to live and be free.

Image from Pixabay

Handing On A Liveable Planet by Meryl Brown Tobin

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Is saving our Earth a great idea?
Then we must make stop those blinded with greed,
using fossil fuels till they disappear.
Is saving our Earth a great idea?
Good ecologists, our future should steer––
we need a world with clean air, water, feed.
Is saving our Earth a great idea?
Then we must make stop those blinded with greed.

Photo from Pexels by Anna Shvets

The Majesty of Life by Stefan Nicholson

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Nature’s jewel shines not only upon the finger ring but within each glance,
where we see everything that sways the senses,
calms the breath and feeds the inner soul from birth to death
with riches far beyond the tools of man – displayed within the beauty of a delicate plan.

Imagine a whale’s journey or the migration of wild herds,
for the majesty of life cannot be explained in simple words. 

Just compare Earth’s night sky with moon and sprinkled stars,
to the mountains and rivers, oceans deep and tree-lined bays with bars.
And see that a common hand has touched each one
with fresh palette, to follow once each season has almost gone.

It seems there is a cyclic spell, yet with random chance of change
to make sea and lake become cloud and rain – sand and fire to mountain range.  
Lands of greens and browns with sky and sea of different blues
perceived by using light and dark, combining waves of special hues. 

And for each breath we take from the very time we’re born,
we feel the trees return a breath refreshed, starting every early morn.

Rainy days, summer afternoons, winter nights and stormy seas,
misty rain breathing on faces like a cool light-hearted tease.
Resonance feeding between the physical and imagined thoughts
which we keenly perceive and cherish and keep safe within our forts.

All this splendour is a wonder from some far, far distant throne,
which we accept lightly far too often with blind familiarity, as if we’re all alone.

There is strength in idle thoughts like a daydream coming true,
making sense of an unknowing, providing firm belief on cue.  
Visualising both origin and destiny as like the random path of man
exposing seeds of calculation as part of this grand majestic plan.

So, rejoice each child who falters, yet gets up each time they fall,
for they will spend a lifetime learning secrets, to why there is majesty at all.