The Earthworm Poem

Once on the ground in the middle of Maine,
In the middle of sun and the middle of rain,
Just content to squiggle and squaggle and squirm,
There lived a particularly big earthworm.

I picked it up
And since it looked
A little bit forlorn,
I set it down
In a muddy place
On the path so old and worn.

Now on the path on the old and worn trail,
It wiggled its head and it waggled its tail,
It burrowed right into the soft muddy ground,
The squiggly squaggly earthworm I found.

I squinted as
I looked at it,
And poked it with a stick.
For my earthworm,
It stopped moving
It seemed it was too thick.

Into the ground the big earthworm went,
But about halfway through he stopped and said, “I can’t
Move any further, it seems like right near
My middle I’m stuck fast; a little help here?”

I nudged it till
It seemed to get
Unstuck from where it was.
It then proceeded to depart
Leaving only grassy fuzz.

So from the trail in the middle of Maine
In the middle of sun and the middle of rain,
I left, and I’ll always be glad to have met
A particular earthworm I’ll never forget.