Billy Bug
The bug upon the log it sang
A song of chirpy tones it rang
Billy bug had many friends
Little bugs with pointed ends
The striped and the spotted ran
To hide from birds or slapping hands
Finally Billy found his place
Beneath a log with mossy lace
With Rosy there he made his nest
They filled with eggs, a hundred blessed
Little ones by hoards arose
And perched upon their daddy’s nose
Off they ran most everywhere
Gone, the family in one day
All the children ran away
Copyright © John Squires | Year Posted 2015
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