Slimy
With words that start with S and L,
Our mind associates a shell.
The slug could use one, this we know.
He seems content without it though.
Slimy seems a useless trait,
Unless you’ve got a one-foot gait.
That’s how they always spend their day,
Slugs and snails slip-slide away.
A gastropod army, it would seem,
That is an enemy soldier’s dream,
And tales of armies told to you,
That travels on its stomach true
Silently, they would creep up,.
No slackers, please, let’s all keep up.
Then quietly begin the fray,
They’d all be worth their salt that day.
Their victory would be some trick,
The leader would be thought as slick.
The truth of armies sadly reads,
That they’ve all done more slimy deeds.
Slurping up their liquid meals,
We have to wonder how it feels,
With eyes on stalks that wave around,
We’d end up dizzy on the ground.
No wonder then that beer can do,
The same to them that it does to you.
And sleepily, they slip away,
To slumber on a sunny day.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . .February 29, 2004
It's a bit faster....
That is truly awe inspiring.