Great I Have Worms

I dig beneath the autumn leaves among the earthy rot To free an earthworm situated there its freedom to fresh air Thus I grasp the wiggler- tis slimy and wet-it wiggles all the more And place it in an old fruit jar amongst brethren already there Now hunkered on yonder river bank I reach into this bait filled jar To grasp a wiggly wiggler and skew it to my line That it may do its job as only it best can do Then a moment poised over the water then baptized anew Sit I do until the wiggler is caught -a tug then reel him back with glee For the fight is joy due to wiggler’s ploy Tis great that I have worms For I get all the glory