These Little Creatures Burrow
These little creatures burrow, and
dig endlessly all day,
In total darkness all their lives,
don’t have time to play,
Every here and there they push,
mound of soil up top,
In the most annoying places, n’
nout to make them stop.
Their coat is fine and silky, and
it brushes either way,
Because in tiny tunnels, shunt
backward with no delay,
In good rich soil finding earth
worms, catch them unaware,
To feed his busy little body, with
no one will he share.
His feet are as little spades, to
dig a longer tunnel,
And with his back feet shove the
soil, up a little funnel,
This is when you see soil move,
pushed up from below,
A mole is what I’m looking for,
just to say hello.
Owd Fred
What Turns more Earth
Ever thought of what turns more earth, than any other means,
Draw down the compost in the ground, to disappear it seams,
Aerate the ground, leave drainage holes, do a power of good,
Improve the land beyond compare, appreciate them we should.
Can never see them while they’re at work, working in the dark,
Break down humus in the soil, so plant roots can embark,
On growing strong and well fed, from the fertility they bring,
Its earth worms that I’m on about, their praises we must sing.
Owd Fred
Worms
in the garden
Worms in the
garden, and worms in the fields,
Eat all the
rotted vegetation, improve all the yields,
Drawn down into
the earth, a worm hole there to leave,
Pushing up the
worm casts, a little pile of soil is heaved.
Repeated over a
garden, or over acres in the grass,
Drawing down the
cow pats, does it quietly without harass,
Moving in its
little way, tons and tons of soil,
Millions of them
working hard, their little bit of toil.
Owd Fred
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