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.
I’ve fetched a cloth and made it damp with silver polish goo. I’m banking on this little lamp to make my dreams come true. I’ve rubbed and scrubbed. I’ve really tried. The smell has made me dizzy. But nothing’s stirred from deep inside. The genie must be busy.
‘Oh please let me in’ said the bear who was grizzly ‘I’m doing a show, I don’t want it frizzly.’ He tugged at his hair, that fussy old bear ‘I’ve just had it dyed, it used to be fair’. Those waiting in line just smiled at each other Ev’ryone happy to help their brother.
A worm who was third from the start of the queue Was shivering hard and fast turning blue ‘What’s wrong with this bus? It’s broken down? Will anyone ever get into the town?’ The town was twinkling and bright with its light Some in the queue were starting to fight.
A big bird with a bandage around one wing Started to dance the highland fling A pelican said to a stork ‘Outrageous! I do hope this madness is not contagious.’ The stork looked at him squarely and quietly said ‘I wish I were home and tucked into my bed’.
Three canaries were singing (they’d been to a dance) The song they were singing was written in France They yodelled and trilled all over the scales They even tried singing the song of the whales. They ordered some orange and cherry ice cream Enough to feed a whole basketball team.
The ice cream arrived and the queue they went crazy Except for the piglets – they’re terribly lazy, They wanted some oak nuts, acorns they’re called, They said they grew hair and no-one was bald. Maybe it’s true that nuts cover the scalp But nobody there needed that kind of help.
The crowd suddenly hushed and fell into silence Somewhere behind was an outbreak of violence A basketball team had arrived with some melons Those in the crowd believed they were felons (people who steal from others their treasures) Getting caught redhanded was one of their pleasures!
The whole scene looked stupid to Harry the Horse Who was trying to study the subject of Morse He tapped then he paused and waited for action His hoof immune from outer distraction He tapped dah dah dit, dit dah, dah and dit* (If it worked he would make a quick dash for it.)
Did you hear about Harry’s ultimate fate? His message was read – it opened the gate! Harry leapt forth and came in number nine And met a young filly he thought was divine; When Harry proposed she promised to tryst ‘Cos Harry had asked with a flick of his wrist.
Well, you might think that this is all rot, That all horses can do is gallop and trot, But Harry believed he could dominate fate By placing his faith in the power to create. The message he’d sent by dah and by dit Had stretched his talent and used all of his wit.
Dah dah dit, tapped in Morse will give you a ‘g’ Dit dah gives you ‘a’, dah and dit ‘t’ and ‘e’ So Harry the Horse repeated his offer, Confirmed he was humble and empty his coffer; And Tilly the Filly was thrilled with his Morse And she happily neighed ‘Oh Harry, of course’.
Sorry I am, about this diversion I have an aversion to total immersion The queue got itself rattled They all tittle-tattled The bus arrived late and was slow to unload But who jumped out first? Of course – the toad.
Australian Children’s Poetry 