Grubby Grub Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

I love to cook two crispy snacks
Of Aussie grub and Kiwi tucker,
But the little crawlies both have knacks
Of gumming up my cooker.

I seek them out of bush and tree,
I send out east and west;
But after they’ve been twigged and logged for me,
I give them all a rest.

I let them rest from nine till three,
For I am busy then,
But scoff them down at dins and tea,
When hunger strikes again.

But different folk have different strokes:
I know a person small —
She keeps a tub of crawling grubs,
Who get no rest at all!

She dines on them in cakes and pies,
And scarcely bats her eyes —
A dozen Huhus, two of Witchettys,
And seven scores of Whys!