A rumble rumble rumble –

makes every worm a-shiver-shake!

A rumble rumble rumble –

makes every worm a-quiver-quake!

 

“Oh no – it’s people!” Twirly worm warned.

“But what are they doing?” Squiggy squeezed his sister.

“They’re cutting the grass with their mean machine!”

“I want to see!” squealed Squiggy. “Let’s go!”

 

And so he began –

a-wriggling and a-wiggling and a-squirming and a-squiggling.

Then he popped out his head in the long green grass.

“It’ll chop you in two!” Twirly yelled. “Silly you!”

And she grabbed and she pulled at her brother’s tacky tail –

Just in time!

“Yeow!” he yelped.

“Silly worm!” she scolded.

“Oh,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” she mumbled.

 

Through the mud and past the stones –

the two of them headed for the compost heap.

 

But –

A tappy tappy tap tap –

makes every worm a-shiver-shake!

A tappy tappy tap tap –

makes every worm a-quiver-quake!

 

“Oh no – it’s blackbird!” Twirly worm warned.

“But what is he doing?” Squiggy squeezed his sister.

“He’s drumming and dancing, and he’s looking for lunch!”

“I want to see!” squealed Squiggy. “Let’s go!”

 

 

 

And so he began –

a-wriggling and a-wiggling and a-squirming and a-squiggling.

Then he pushed out his nose and blinked at the bird.

“He’ll peck you with his beak!” Twirly let out a shriek.

And she grabbed and she pulled at her brother’s tacky tail –

Just in time!

 

“Yeow!” he yelped.

“Silly worm!” she scolded.

“Oh,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” she mumbled.

 

Through the seeds and past the roots –

on they went to the compost heap.

 

But –

A diggy diggy dig dig –

makes every worm a-shiver-shake!

A diggy diggy dig dig –

makes every worm a-quiver-quake!

 

“Oh no – it’s moley!” Twirly worm warned.

“But what is he doing?” Squiggy squeezed his sister.

“He’s scooping out the mud with his strong, sharp claws!”

“I want to see!” squealed Squiggy. “Let’s go!”

 

And so he began –

a-wriggling and a-wiggling and a-squirming and a-squiggling.

Then they came nose to nose. And Moley stretched his toes.

“It’s mole!” Twirly squeaked. “And he’ll gobble you whole!”

And she grabbed and she pulled at her brother’s tacky tail –

Just in time!

 

“Yeow!” he yelped.

“Silly worm!” she scolded.

“Oh,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” she mumbled.

 

 

 

At last they reached the compost heap –

squidgy and steamy and slurpy with slime.

Their uncles and their aunties were chomping carrot tops;

while their friends and their cousins were munching rotten slops.

There were lots of squirmy squealings

as they tumbled down the peelings.

Everyone was having such foody festive fun.

 

But then there came the spiky beast –

searching – sniffing for a feast.

Shuffle, snuffle snuffle – everybody stopped.

Shuffle, snuffle snuffle – everybody listened.

Shuffle, snuffle snuffle – everybody looked.

 

And when they saw his black wet snout,

they swiftly skidded – skedaddled out.

Hither, thither, slip and slither –

Twirly and Squiggy and every friend –

out and away from

a burpy end. –

Just in time!

 

© Charlie Wilson 2014