Pretty summer days are really hot,
am I being cooked like crabs in a pot.
Fireworks made me pee my pants,
all wet but I will still dance.
Looks like I hit the big summer jackpot.
Fiddler crabs scuttling into their tiny fiddler crab homes. The fiddler crabs feel safest from predators in their deep dark muddy holes. Fiddler crabs don't want to be gobbled down by hungry birds that may eat them.Fiddler crabs crawl sideways or forwards on tiny six legs. Fiddler crabs have one big claw to hurt enemies. Fiddler crabs live in the mud or on mangrove trees. Fiddler crabs love mangrove trees and that is their natural habitat. Fiddler crabs forage at low tide in the mud and before high tide they scuttle back to their holes. The fiddler crabs that you see around mangroves are black. Sometimes you might spot a leopard fiddler crab, with tiny white spots on their outer shell. Fiddler crabs will always be special to the environment and a subject of curiosity and wonder for children!!!
Scents of sea, historical townships and seafood
Thrilled like vacations not just a dinner destination.
Each trip to Chesapeake Bay staid that fine mood.
As we rode, my family's blend got on its finest silly
Making jokes, singing, bro and I loved Dad’s riddles.
Eyes all turned somber passing the barn site where
Destiny once heard JW Booth say, ‘useless, useless ...’
Crackers, hammers, picks, butter sat on brown paper with
Randomly scattered crabs piled high excited my family.
Although not novices, Dad would inspect our dissects,
Brag to Moma about how strong his shellfish genes
Swam, huh?
Nomads, crabs aspire
Forsaken shells for tasking.
Seas' wanderers rest.
blue crabs cross the road
scurry through the sandy grass
nearing water’s edge
holiday romance
I walk along the white sand
infested with crabs
a small green gecko
smiling in the palapa
watching everything
arachnids calmly
weave intricate spiderwebs
waiting in shadows
a striped iguana
sunbathing on the smooth rocks
watching the ocean
hermit crabs scuttle
on wet sand, going nowhere,
only moving on
Crabs are everywhere ~ be careful of their claws.
February 20, 2023
The sun goes down as we set off through bushes,
equip with homemade torches in hand,
A wish to catch land crabs by the bushels,
And stuffing our large crocus sack was our plan.
Focused to hear crabs crawling on the ground,
shoving vines and branches out of our way,
Thrilled to glimpse a yellow crab crawling around,
I launched forward, but it scooted away.
When the soil is damp, earth crabs roam about.
Fast you must be, if you hope to catch one,
They are quick and with their claws; they lash out!
Sometimes you end up catching none.
Crabs are assumed a fine delicacy for some,
They are cooked in plenty of interesting ways,
Stuffed, boiled, stewed, and you can bake them.
It can be discovered on any menu most days.
Grains of sand
hiding small burrows;
every tiny sand crabs, the Emerita Analoga
needs its burrow.
intense sunlight’s warm but
has its dangers, even for a tiny crab’s skin.
xiphosurans, cousins to the sand crabs,
don’t need to stress and
worry about the sun
as unless they are upside down, it won’t harm them.
long hot summers will see sand crabs burrowing to
keep themselves from sunburn and dry skin. These
burrowing crabs have insufficient legs for traveling.
zooplankton nourishes the crabs,
building their health so they can burrow deeply
underneath the sand.
just watch where you step at the beach,
no one wants to be squished when they’re building or be
renovating their lovely burrow. All life is sacred,
please show some respect.
The extreme will to survive
Life finds a way
The struggle to adapt
Alone - we become predator or prey
Like a crab in a bucket
There all alone
Climbs his way to the top
Liberated – like a coop that’s been flown
Tragically - when the bucket is full
Crabs fight with all their might
One climbs to the top
Overwhelmed by the others – loses the fight
The crabs in the bucket
Humanity should take heed
If we all work together
The bucket – a metaphor for reciprocity
When you strive for the top
Reach back and grab hold
Service for others
The greatest story could be told
United
Profound – The Golden Rule
When you do unto others
Life gives back to you
When cold out, I was heard to say,
"I'll be so glad when winter's gone"
When it was warm with so much rain,
I complained, "I can't mow my lawn!"
The rain let up one sunny day
I said, "This heat is hard to take!"
It seems one way or the other
"I just can't seem to get a break"
If the weather should change again
Listen for, my climate crabs call
Ironic I say much about
That which, I have no say at all!
Scavenger crabs live under rocks
They live under seaweed, they live under docks
Scavenger crabs live under floats
They live under driftwood, they live under boats.
Scavenger crabs are bad because
They'll bite you with gigantic claws
They'll poke you, pinch you, stab and jab
If you go near a scavenger crab.
Scavenger crabs live by the shore
Hiding, waiting, crabs galore
Crabs are bad without a doubt
Chew you up and spit you out.
small particle
of light in the
free and infinite space
what is knowledge
what is karma
she seems perturbed
white sand spreading beyond
an injured crab walking backwards
we are
our whole nature is freedom
we curb it we listen to false
teachings and get entangled
and we are in bondage
you are the horizon
where earth meets the space
no gravity in space
you are
free and floating
the weight of our habits
are old and heavy
darkness is traditional embrace
the light just realise it
she is embracing me now and
the crabs are walking sideways
This is what some will say
You’ve crossed the line. Time out.
You’re rejected from the game
You’re not coming back. So go hit the showers.
Once cherished, baptized, and sublime
Asinine. Never enough iodine. Guilty.
Now crowned in your sins.
Stoned concubine. The shamed bovine.
You’re sweaty. You're filthy.
You crossed the line. Go hit the showers.
Submerged from the weight of the world.
Drunk on the blood of the wine.
End of the game. It's not even halftime.
The filthy crime. The shamed headline.
Once cherished, There's no room available.
The game is over. You’re out. You've crossed the line.
Not worth a dime. Stole from the altar's wine.
Combine, the fowl and swine wine and dine.
Frankenstein shrine. You're out. Go resign.
You’ve crossed the line. You’ve crossed the line.
This is what some will say.
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