Dance Of The Ants - Poem by G.R. Gaus
I sat within the morning light,
The sun eclipsed the ridge,
Warming in the chilly air,
Mind’s eye began to stare.
Silk worm dangling on its thread,
Blowing lightly in the breeze,
Sinking ever closer near,
Unrelenting to persevere.
Ill fated journey to the ground,
Near a colony of Little Black Ants,
One by one they met their prey,
Wrestling the worm, as if in play.
Twenty to one, dwarfed in size,
Worked feverishly together,
In a frenzy, to feed the rest,
Close unity, describes it best.
A stray carpenter ant happens by,
An attempt to steal the prize,
Immediately attacked; runs away,
Wisely lives, to steal another day.
An hour later, wearing down,
Exhausted from no defense,
To the Victor, Goes the Spoils,
Journey home, with many toils.
Carrying on with a steady routine,
Nonstop, throughout all the day,
Long after dark, all safely inside,
Perfect world in which to abide.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about Dance Of The Ants by G.R. Gaus
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You