It’s good to hide

Enjoy listening to the story . . .
Page 1

 

Round and round in ragged rings

and walking a wiggly line –

I’m a little brown ant

having a busy time.

 

Master ant was clambering over crumbled calico stones.

He heard the kitten calls of his friends – the young buzzards.

 

He smiled.

And jumped.

And gasped.

For suddenly Mistress Lizard popped up her speckled head.

“Kalimera, Master Ant.”

“Ooh! You made me jump. Kalimera – to you Mistress Lizard.

I didn’t see you there.”

She liked to hide beside the sun-curled leaves.

“Ah,” she said, “It’s good to hide.”

“Is it?” asked ant. “Why do you hide?”

She raised one foot in the air,

and slowly stretched her toes.

“I hide from moths and mosquitoes.”

“But why?” asked ant.

“Because they don’t like me eating them!”

“Ah, ha,” nodded ant.

“But mostly,” she added, swivelling her eyes, “I hide from man.

And you should do that as soon as you can.”

“Ah,” said ant, “man has never bothered me. And see, I’m as busy as busy can be.

Kalimera, Mistress Lizard.”

“Kalimera, Master Ant.”

She crouched and looked like the sun-shrivelled leaves.

 

Page 2

 

 

Round and round in ragged rings

and walking a wiggly line –

I’m a little brown ant

having a busy time.

 

Master Ant was fighting through a forest of spiky grass.

He heard the chatter and trill of his friends – the swallows.

 

He smiled.

And jumped.

And gasped.

For suddenly, Master Cicada with his honey tummy, chirruped.

“Kalimera, Master Ant.”

“Ooh! You made me jump. Kalimera – to you Master Cicada.

I didn’t see you there.”

He liked to hide in the wrinkly tree.

“Ah,” he said, “It’s good to hide.”

“Is it?” asked ant. “Why do you hide?”

He chirruped as he warmed his lacy wings.

“I hide from the birds, and I hide from the snakes.”

“But why?” asked ant.

“Because the birds and the snakes want to eat me.”

“Ah, ha,” nodded ant.

“But mostly,” he added, shading his eyes, “I hide from man.

And you should do that as soon as you can.”

“Ah,” said ant, “man has never bothered me. And see, I’m as busy as busy can be.

Kalimera, Master Cicada.”

“Kalimera, Master Ant.”

Cicada clung, still, to his olive tree, and no one could see.

 

Page 3

 

 

Round and round in ragged rings

and walking a wiggly line –

I’m a little brown ant

having a busy time.

 

Master Ant was paddling through a splash of water spilled from a leaky old hose.

He heard the delicate drone of his friends – the dragonflies.

 

He smiled.

And jumped.

And gasped.

For suddenly, Mistress Spider shot out from her funnel web.

“Kalimera, Master Ant.”

“Ooh! You made me jump. Kalimera – to you Mistress Spider.

I didn’t see you there.”

She liked to hide in her swirly dark.

“Ah,” she said, “It’s good to hide.”

“Is it?” asked ant. “Why do you hide?”

She let the breeze tickle her fangs.

“I hide from black beetles and caterpillars too.”

“But why?” asked ant.

“Because I jump on them and gobble them up.”

“Ah, ha,” nodded ant.

“But mostly,” she added, screwing up her eyes, “I hide from man.

And you should do that as soon as you can.”

“Ah,” said ant, “man has never bothered me. And see, I’m as busy as busy can be.

Kalimera, Mistress Spider.”

“Kalimera, Master Ant.”

And spider slipped swiftly down her deep silver hole.

 

Page 4

 

 

Round and round in ragged rings

and walking a wiggly line –

I’m a little brown ant

having a busy time.

 

Master Ant was scrambling through crispy-copper leaves –

When suddenly he heard Jay squawk,

“Look out here’s man. Hide if you can.”

And he spread his wings and swerved away.

 

Now –

Ant could feel him.

Ant could hear him.

Ant could see him.

Man.

Each time his big dusty boots struck the ground,

it made a thunder crashing sound.

Crash, crash, crash, crash!

The buzzards cried, “Miew, miew– hide, hide!”

The swallows cried, “Trill, trill– hide, hide!”

The dragonflies cried, “Buzz, buzz – hide, hide!”

 

Crash, crash, crash, crash!

Ant was shaken and ant went rolling head over tail through dusty red dirt.

And man’s big belly shadow – fell over him.

Man had come to check his olives, hanging in clusters – powdered and green.

He ran his fat fingers through wild, wiry hair,

And rubbed his whiskery, bristly chin.

On his face spread a broken toothed grin;

He nodded happily and began to sing,

“They will make a glorious harvest. They will make the finest oil.”

He turned on his heels and set out for home.

Crash, crash, crash, crash!

 

Page 5

 

 

Mistress Spider she cried, “Hide!”

Master Cicada he cried, “Hide!”

Mistress Lizard she cried, “Hide!”

Crash, crash, crash, crash!

Man’s dusty boot shadow – fell over ant.

And all eyes shut, and all breath stopped.

Crash, crash, crash, crash!

Man sang softly to himself,

“They will make a glorious harvest. They will make the finest oil.”

Crash, crash, crash, crash!

All eyes slowly opened.

Lizard, cicada and spider sighed,

“We told him to hide.”

 

Goat bleated on the mountainside.

Cockerel crowed by the lemon tree;

and bee foraged for nectar in the sweet honeysuckle bush.

 

© Charlie Wilson 2012

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