The Snail

Written by: Joyce Johnson

The snail is one of God’s creatures.
In his home in the forest land
He keeps the ground cleared with his crunching.
That’s  a good thing and I understand.

But why does he come to my garden
To chew on my favorite plants?
The snail can be worse than a beetle or bug
Or even meandering ants.

Now surely I’m smarter than he is,
That small mound of jelly and slop.
But I use all my wiles and my will and my ways,
And still can’t get him to stop.

When he chews on my iris or primrose
That I have so carefully reared,
I attack with an armload of weapons. 
Now I am the one to be feared.

His persistence drives me to murder.
I cut him in two with a hoe.
I drown him with beer,  pour salt on his rear.
Before a new half he can grow.

He multiplies faster than bunnies.,
And all I can do now is cry.
This snail so tenacious, ferocious, rapacious
Is much more resourceful than I..

The rule is to eat or be eaten
Perhaps he would bow in defeat
If I had a taste for escargot.
It is then my revenge would be sweet.