ANT ANTICS

My name is Pierre,,
some call me Handsome
I'm a run away ant,
who lives in a transom.

Now why would I,
unlike the others,
who are my sisters,
and my brothers,
live in a cranny,
over a door,
and not think of it
as being a bore?

You see my kinfolk,
live underground,
throughout all the seasons,
like all year round.

And living and working,
in an eerie blackout,
made it kind of hard,
to really move or shout.

I remember the rooms
in our apartment,
much, much smaller,
than a toy compartment.

Yes, we were busy,
coming and going,
picking the seeds,
we'd forever keep storing,
in special bins,
some six feet under,
away from the rain,
lightning and thunder.

But I wanted a world,
that shed more light,
so I found a transome,
that gave me that sight.

Instead of six feet down,
I nested six feet high,
and was so much closer,
to a blue-lit sky.

and I'll tell you true,
and I'll tell you boldly,
when you're close to the sun,
you're not as coldly.

Living over a door,
gives me a view,
of people called humans,
and of what they do.

I can go and come,
whenever I please,
with nobody around,
to give me a tease.

I'm as free as a bird,
as happy as a bee,
it's certainly wonderful,
just to be me.

Food there's enough of,
it's here and there.
The floor is my cupboard,
It's just never bare.

Hold on a moment,
I've got a guest,
i think it's a spider,
come here to rest.

Hello said the spider,
a gleam in his eye,
not even waiting
for my reply,
but started right in,
a large web to spin,
from a supply of thread,
that lay within.

Right next to me,
without using a measure,
that spider wove,
an architectural treasure.

It was perfect,
in every conceivable way,
and seemed strong enough,
to last all the given day.

I thought I should enter,
like a friendly neighbor,
say hello and all that,
and commend his labor.

I was just about
to knock on the door,
prior to stepping
onto the silken floor.
But then I remembered
mother saying to me,
"If it's somebody new
you are going to see,
bring a little itsy gift,
to give a kind of a lift."
Those were her very words,
so cleverly spoken.

As I turned to go,
to the corner store,
something happened,
to stop that chore.

Luck smiled upon me,
cause along came a fly,
who flew into the web,
to give it a try.

The fly's exploration,
was the shortest ever.
It seems that flight,
should have been never.

The web was a trap.
The fly could not fly.
It soon gave up,
and prepared to die.

The spider crept out,
not much in a hurry,
and watched the fly,
give one last flurry.

When all was still,
the spider pounced,
and looking at me,
solemnly announced,
"All who would enter
my silky room,
will simply travel
to their doom.

"I'm a living creature,
and need food to survive,
he who comes in,
won't go out alive".

I reckoned the spider
was talking to me,
so I said,
"Dear spider,
you'll never get me.
That fly saved my life,
for sure and for real,
if not for it,
I'd have been your meal".

I decided my home,
was a little too busy
and that the height,
made me too dizzy.

I packed no bag,
I liked traveling light,
and before you could say spider,
I scrambled out of sight.

Did you ever see,
an ant that was slow,
and not ready,
to just go, go, go.
I'm sure you haven't,
because slow is a no, no.
We've got six strong legs,
and they're just not for show.

Hope you're still with me,
'Cause there's more to see.

I went over a fence,
and over a track,
around a tree
that had a crack
I crossed a road,
and horns were blaring.
My life seemed charmed,
because i kept on faring.

I climbed onto a shoe,
and up a deep forest,
but it was hair on a leg,
of a man called Horace.
His hand reached down,
to where I was climbing,
but I avoided his paw,
in the nick of timing.

i got out of there,
in mighty quick time,
or
I'd of been squashed,
like a lemon or a lime.

I went on my way,
more careful, less daring,
but soon found out,
I'd lost my bearing.

I knew not if,
I was coming or going,
and the winds started up,
whistling and blowing.

I was tossed about,
like a ship on an ocean.
There was no way,
I cold stop its motion.
The wind picked me up,
and threw me away,
I really didn't know,
if it was night or day.

I was tossed under some stones,
and I began to say,
if I ever got home,
I would never stray.

I must of been tired,
'cause I fell asleep,
and began a dream.
that was six feet deep.

i dreamed of my first home,
ao friendly and cosy,
and my foolishness in leaving,
because I was so nosy.

I dreamed of spiders,
I dreamed of flies,
I dreamed of breaking ,
my family ties.

Those ties that I'd broken,
'cause i thought there was better.
Could I in my dream,
send a wire or a good letter?

I could and I would,
so I took pen in hand,
snd started to write home,
to that place in the sand.

"Dear brothers and sisters,
dear mom and dad,,
dear uncle and auntie,
I'm ever so sad.
I'm smack in the middle,
of an alarming dream,
but all I really want,
is to be back on the team.

I miss all of you,
and grandpa and grannie,
and if I ever get home,
I won't sit on my fanny.
I'll sure pull my weight,
and I'll do my share,
and be happy to be home,
and in your care.

I'll do my lessons,
I'll take my shower,
I'll help with tunneling,
deep in our bower.

Excuse me folks,
I'll stop for a while.
It's my snoring time.
I'll just snore for a mile.

When I wake up,
and still find I'm lost,
I'll mail this letter,
no matter its cost.
And then I'll send up,
a smoke signal or two,
and hope you can come,
to my poor rescue.

When I awoke with a start,
dawn was just breaking,
and I really got busy,
a fire to be making..
I started that fire,
and made a blanket of leaves,
and the smoke signal said,
"Come quick, if you please,
it's Pierre, the wayward ant.
just follow the smoke,
I am very serious,
this is no silly joke.

I'm lost and I'm weary,'
I want to go home,
so please do listen,
to my sad little poem."

To make doubly sure,
I put on ant postage,
on my dream letter,
the one I held hostage..

I mailed it special delivery,
and sat back and waited.
I knew I'd be rescued,
I mean, was it not fated?

I was a little hungry,
so I ate a few seeds
and I combed my hair,,
and put on my beads.

I was ready to return,
to that underground condo,
and move in to my room,
with Minnie and Mondo,
and Charlie, and Sam,
and Jerry and Lizzie,
and Susan and Pam,
and Lois and Dizzy.

There are thousands of others,
just to many to name,
but all built like me,
like really the same.

I didn't wait long,
for unknown to me,
I was twelve feet away,
from our family tree.

And soon they came,,
in a long single file,
that twelve feet,
seemed like a mile.

We embraced and kissed,
as I smiled all the while,
as we inched our way back,
along that happy "mile".

I have no more wish,
to roam or to wander,
I now know my home
is really six feet under.