Home from Holiday
You can’t take worms on holiday,
They’re not inclined to travel.
Even Mr Woolly Worm
Declares he might unravel.
And as you head through Customs
They might search through your cases
And confiscate your earthworm
On a ‘foreign soil’ basis.
It’s best to leave your worms behind
With homely soil to sift
And, as you do for special friends,
Bring home a lovely gift.
poem © Celia Warren 2015
This is a new worm poem, so it doesn’t appear in Don’t Poke a Worm till it Wriggles but you will find lots more squirmy poems in its pages.
I wonder if you can guess what gift I brought home for Woolly Worm, and where I’ve been on holiday?