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Eric, the earwig, peeped out from his stone:

Was there someone about or was he all alone?

     Up high on the rose bush were many greenfly

      And far up above them, the clear evening sky.

 

So what do you think he would like for his meal?

What types of food would have earwig appeal?

      Would fish and chips do for a small earwig’s lunch?

      'No, green leaves and flowers are what I like to crunch.'

 

In his armour-type jacket and pincers on head

You might think him fearsome, but oh no, instead

     This friendly small creature enjoys his quiet life,

     But might use his pincers to fight for a wife.

 

His wife loves her children.  She’s loving and kind,

And a more caring mother you never would find.

     They might visit your home to find something to eat -

     Some flowers or green leaves would be nice for a treat.

 

So lift them up gently and take them outside

To a part of the garden where they’ll quickly hide.

     Be kind to small earwigs.  They’ll never hurt you.

     Now wave Eric bye bye as we wish him adieu.

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Copyright on all my poems

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