Birds and Worms

Birds and Worms

A little bird flew down from the sky,
Mama had told him, go find food, now fly.
He landed on soil that was shimmering with oil,
Where worms popped up from the grass and the soil.
He picked up a few and said, hmm, they’ll pass,
Then flew back to Mama with his dinner from the grass.

Goodness, said Mama, they’re covered in germs,
We can’t sit for dinner with filthy old worms.
But Mama, they’re posh, just give them a wash.
So she scrubbed every worm till they looked rather posh.
They riddled and jiddled and widdled along,
While Mama bird washed them and sang a bird song.

Then Daddy came home and looked at their tea,
Goodness gracious, what’s all this I see?
They’re clean, Mama said, but we’ve no pan to boil.
They’re worms, Daddy laughed, they’re supposed to like soil.
So he covered them in honey from their head to their feet,
Licked his beak and said, now those worms look sweet.

But one little worm made a dash for the edge,
Bounced off a daisy and fell through a hedge.
He riddled and jiddled and widdled below,
Through roots and dark tunnels where worm families go.
Mama, the birds ate my cousins for tea.
Then they’re not, Mama said, getting you or me.

The worms dug deep under Farmer Brown’s land,
And outside their wormhole they put up a sign.
No birds down this hole, this wormhole is mine.
Go find yourself berries, some seeds or a pea,
You’ve eaten our cousins, you’re not eating me.
Then they riddled and jiddled and danced until three.

The little bird flew home with some berries instead,
While Daddy bird scratched at the top of his head.
No worms, he said, what a terrible shame.
Then a voice from the wormhole called Daddy by name.
Keep away from our family, we’re finished as tea.
And Daddy called back, what about honey at three?