Have you ever noticed, <br />That when it rains, <br />Or pours, <br />There are worms, <br />Upon the sidewalk, <br />Like small castaways, <br />From a shipwreck, <br />Slowly bobbing through the sea, <br />To their demise. <br /> <br />They search in vain, <br />For a tiny parcel, <br />Of dry land, <br />On which to dry, <br />Their soggy skins, <br />And then... <br /> <br />The sun comes out, <br />And bakes them, <br />And glues them to the ground, <br />Like gum to a shoe. <br /> <br />But did you ever wonder, <br />Just how it can be, <br />That when worm villages flood, <br />There are still some survivors? <br /> <br />And how can it be, <br />That the really big, <br />Juicy fat ones, <br />You find when digging, <br />Through your garden, <br />Have grown to be so huge? <br /> <br />It's always the poor little fellows, <br />That you find on the sidewalk. <br />Could it be that the others, <br />Simply ride out the storm, <br />Under my porch, <br />Or in my garage? <br /> <br />Darwin, would have said... <br />'Survival of the fittest', <br />Even, among worms. <br /> <br />I am so glad, <br />That I am not a worm!<br /><br />Dee Daffodil<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/worms/
