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
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