A busy woodlouse wends his way
across the tiles of black and gray.
A vast expanse beneath the sky
I wonder where he goes and why.
A tiny creature harming none
he journeys on his way alone in danger
from the birds that fly.
I wonder where he goes and why.
Wood lice have no defence at all
except to curl up into a ball.
He hurries on determinedly.
I wonder where he goes and why.
Now he will travel on no more
he has become the breakfast for
a hungry blackbird passing by.
I know where he’s gone and why.
Revised sep 07
Love it Ivor! We used to call them 'Granfergrigs' goodness knows why, but it was a fascinating name when we were young. Great read, lighthearted but sad. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
Oh, how sad! But it's all a part of the scheme of things. I had a little spider on my wall last night, and I told it 'I won't smash you if you promise to stay out of my bed'.........(anyone listening would have thought I was crazy) . This is a touching little piece, Ivor. I guess we all have our purpose in life - it's probably good that we don't know exactly what it is. Linda :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Poet, This is one of my favorites. The little doddlebug, or woodlouse, will be back as the bird who ate him...LOL This is such a wonderful poem. I love it. Beautiful and sad.....