A maggot, high up in a tree,
by Herbert Nehrlich
lived there with family of ten,
in roomy hollows of decay
and she remembered back to when
her husband had, while sound asleep,
rolled out of bed and fell to ground.
He broke his neck, the fall was steep
and lay there, still, without a sound
until a bird had picked him up
to take him back to sparrow's nest.
Announced 'You kids, I have some grub'.
Meanwhile our maggotmum got dressed
and told her kids to stay indoor,
while she would go to Rabbit' Heaven,
where cabbage could be had, and more.
She would be back around eleven
with food to feed their hungry mouths.
So, off she went and down the tree,
in early morn' she ventured south.
At the horizon she could see
the greenest fields and garden plots.
So, being careful, mark my words,
she watched for giant juggernauts,
but most of all she feared the birds.
The cabbage patch looked appetising,
she stuffed her pockets to the hilt,
and in the East the sun was rising,
she'd hurry or the food would wilt.
And, once again, she stayed alert,
got to the bottom of her tree,
worn out and swollen feet that hurt,
yet up she climbed the same as he
-her husband- always had ascended:
One foot, of many, up a notch,
then roll your body sideways, splendid.
It guarantees you speed as such.
And, when she rested at the door,
there was no sound from the inside.
She called her kids, then called some more,
fear dilated her pupils wide.
And then, the biggest, foulest mess
of bird poo that she'd ever see
was right in front of her distress.
And so she turned - jumped off the tree.