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Horse Rhyme
by Rex Miller
I do this deed
with lightening speed
for I have freed
a wondrous steed
of noble breed
so I can lead
his healthy creed
down there to feed.
I was not told
that too behold
something this bold
will take a hold
and then unfold
an equine gold.
The Ant and Me
by Rex Miller
I opened up my palm to see an ant
waving all his arms in such a rant.
Bending close, to my surprise, I heard a voice,
it seemed this little ant he had no choice.
I don't know why I left the path and then
my giant feet had trampled on his den.
The little ant explained they'd built a nest
but now a crumpled mess he must protest.
Deep down I knew my feet had done me wrong
when walking where I just did not belong
if only I had stayed upon the path
this ant might be at home sat in the bath.
I felt so sorry for this little chap
I took him home and sat him on my lap
then once asleep I placed him on my bed
and even let him cuddle up to ted,
I knew right then the ant and me were friends
I hoped a life with me might make amends.
A Frog in his Tea
by Rex Miller
The frog was tired of sitting still
so it jumped from the lawn
to the window sill,
and hopped through the gap
down onto the rug,
then up on the arm and into the mug.
The man looked down to his cup of tea
and saw something swimming
that couldn't get free.
He lifted it carefully and there in his
drink were two blinking eyes
looking up in surprise.
Both being shocked to meet over tea
the frog and the man
swopped smiles of glee.
Lifting him on to his palm he said
"Now that's what I call a mug shot
thank goodness my tea was not hot."
Hop Not Jump
by Rex Miller
I am a frog who likes to hop,
I hop and hop and cannot stop!
My mother said "Why not just jump,
frogs jump not hop you silly lump!"
I had no choice so told my mother
"One leg is longer than the other,
so when I go to jump like this,
my shorter leg will always miss
and so I hop but do not mind
for hopping is great fun I find!"
Curlew Hunting Worms
by Meg Wiseman
He raised his stick leg,
flapped the foot and froze,
below the mud flat washed with surf,
a tide of white sea,
revealing textured sludge,
a slight movement,
then jab and jab and jab again,
he thrust that long and
slender bill, a bow like beak,
a curving weapon and
mud and slim and worm emerge
to slither down that hollow tool.
White Bars
by Lisa Oyanna
The Hawk's curved dagger
came down against
the lines of wind,
two white bars
upon his wings,
shafts of light on metal.
It cut behind a tree,
diving from sight.
The tree was a great white
husk, the slabs of bark
dried in the sun,
twisted shapes the size
of shields folding free.
Beneath a white bleached
leg bone, a tree trunk,
pocked with twig knots,
thrusting its snake limbs
wide and into the blue.
Then up above the shadow
arced away, escaping
the tree, the bow, an arrow,
the shadow Hawk
loosed into the blazing sun.
The Ant and Me
by Rex Miller
I opened up my palm to see an ant
waving all his arms in such a rant.
Bending close, to my surprise, I heard a voice,
it seemed this little ant he had no choice.
I don't know why I left the path and then
my giant feet had trampled on his den.
The little ant explained they'd built a nest
but now a crumpled mess he must protest.
Deep down I knew my feet had done me wrong
when walking where I just did not belong
if only I had stayed upon the path
this ant might be at home sat in the bath.
I felt so sorry for this little chap
I took him home and sat him on my lap
then once asleep I placed him on my bed
and even let him cuddle up to ted,
I knew right then the ant and me were friends
I hoped a life with me might make amends.
Ants and Spiders
by Cheryl Sandberg
Behind the bush upon the mound
ants are moving with no sound.
Leaves are passed along the chain,
ants as one, a single brain.
Strands of silver make a net,
unseen web, a silent threat.
Fly is caught it's far too late
spider comes to seal his fate.
Ants march on to feed the queen
deep below she is unseen.
Workers feed the silent drones
in their capsule breeding zones.
Spider shoots its web to reach
across the ever widening breach.
Swinging on a single thread
beyond the gap the web is spread.
Honey Bee and Me
by Rex Millar
I must not wave my arms
at he, the fluffy honey bee
in front of me.
I will not flap my hands
and be afraid to see
this lonely honey bee.
I yet might scream for
now one bee has
tripled up to three.
I could just shake or cry
for more than three
are now in front of me!
I might just run and
maybe flee the
swarm approaching me!