Short Squirmy Poems

Warm fuzzy, squirmy, powdery smell.
Goo, goo music to my ears
Peacefuness, facial expressions galore.
Firm gentle grasp on my finger tip
Helpless devotion, personal satisfaction
Love grows every second...

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squirmy night crawler
how a little, dirt digging
digs the morning lawn
~
squirmy night crawler
little a dirt digging worm
burrows in morning



8/22/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©...

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Giddy 
    Kiddie

    Purdy
    Birdie

    Funky
    Monkey

    Lucky
    Duckie  

    Picky
    Chicky  

    Loggy 
    Froggy

    Wiggy
    Piggy
 
    Squirmy 
    Wormy

    Tidy
    Spidy

    Lucy
    Goosy

    Lovey
    Dovey...

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Wiggly squirmy fidgety Spring
The robin’s worms the crawling things.

A swarm of ladybugs on the wing.
Children fly on waiting swings.

Geese form squadrons in the air.
Narcissus bloom with scent fair.

And love finds a way to birth
to propagate the waiting earth....

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The morning has no news of me.
I may have to dig out words
from there squirmy underground nests,
look for a distracted squirrel
in an imagined tree,
envision my upside down figure
legs swinging from a high branch
something to get the blood flowing into my head.
Now I see a thread, and now quickly follow it
to where these lines abruptly end....

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Spring rain was forecast,
it came.
showers licking the earth,
also the bald spot on the top of my head.
under my collar, down my back,
skin gets squirmy.

In the store,
I’m thinking of buying an umbrella,
but end up buying Gladioli,
because you love them.

The tall flowers are soaked through
and getting heavy,

I could have forecasted that....

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The morning has no news of me.
I may have to dig out words
from their squirmy underground nests,
look for a hungry starling
in an imagined tree.
Envision my upside down figure
legs waving above ground half buried.
Something to get the turgid blood flowing.
Now I see a thread, and now go quickly to follow it
to where these lines abruptly end,
in order to begin....

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With a wide-eyed grin he slowly dangles his catch 		
a silvery tilapia- first of the first batch				
gingerly gripping the slimy water dweller			
to unhook the hook on that unlucky feller.			
Reaching out graciously, tactile and slim in form			
tiny fingers picking a squirmy  little worm			
a beautifully presented  live dinner bait				
for some sweet and sour fish on his glass dinner plate....

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Solomon’s secretive solemn sassy sensuous servants and songbirds
Solicited serious Somalian solutions simultaneously with South African,
Southeast Asian, South Dakota, and South America.  Squiffy, squirmy
Spiny specialized swordfish sent spiraling soon soared with sticky, 
Silly starfish wearing stiletto heels.  Surfboarders supposedly stepped
Over stormy streams to strip submarginal substances from slippery surfaces.
Sadly some suspected subterfuge....

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Teeny tiny, itsy bitsy
Creepy crawling critters
Jumpy people just don’t likem
They give them all the jitters

Grass Hopper and Praying Mantis
To the flying hard shell bug. 
Worms that squirm and maggots
To the slippery slimey slug

So if you see an itsy bitsy
Or just a teeny weeny.
Or a slippery slimey
Or maybe a squirmy squeemy

Just say hello, how do you do.
Then quietly walk away
They’ll be forever in your debt
Till you meet another day....

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Don’t bury me in an eco-pod
for I am biodegradable already.
Don’t bury me in the earth,
or animal feces I might birth
nor in lead
because while lead is harmless to the dead
it is after all lead.
Don’t bury me under stone,
beneath a stone all alone.
Bury me in fermenting compost,
you may leave my feet 
sticking out just for laughs.
Yes wormy me, good an
germy, awfully squirmy,
until all is dank and smelly,
the I will grow roses 
out of my belly....

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This poem was wrote for Ashley when she was in kindergarden.

My life as a worm.
All I do is squirm and squirm.

My body is squirmy,long and round.
I live in the dirt deep in the ground.

In the ground I dig real deep.
Until I find a place to sleep.

I have no eyes so I can't see.
But I can feel you when your close to me.

They like to catch me and put me in a jar.
They put me on a hook and throw me far.
                         Teresa Skyles  8/19/02...

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Oh, my  boyfriend-on-demand

I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of mountain dew.

As my fists fall from its grip, I am reminded of your squirmy nerdy body.
In the hushed, I listen for the last sounds of pee missing the toilet.

My heated Mad Face breathes inside my hardened soul.

I wait in the kitchen for your Ugly Head so that we may break up as one, Mad Face to Mad Face; in search of the glorious breakup, it's almost sensual saying the final goodbye of love....

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