King of the Ants

Hi everyone,

You know how I like to watch and report on the small members of the Goose Lake community. Recently I watched an ant puffing along under the weight of a moth wing it was somehow managing to carry. Had to imagine what that miniature brain might be thinking. The first line of the poem it inspired wanted to be iambic pentameter: da DA da DA da DA da DA da DA. Perhaps the longer line supported the herculean labors of that tiny beast. At that point it could have gone to blank verse. Instead, this one veered off into rhyme: ababa. I don’t know why, but I liked the result, which is fun to read aloud.

The King of Ants 

I wonder what you’re thinking, little ant.
That wing of moth makes quite a load for you.
You get it caught on every passing plant,
but giving up I know you’ll never do.
I never met an ant that said it can’t.

I wonder what you’re thinking, little bug,
that wing of moth will make a tasty meal?
Never mind that it’s a lot to lug –
wing of fly would seem far more ideal –
yet on and on your carry, push, and tug.

I wonder if you’re thinking as you cling
so stubbornly to what you have in tow,
that all your friends will love this juicy wing?
Are you dreaming as you labor so,
tonight’s the night they’ll treat you like a king?

(c) 2022 David L. Harrison, all rights reserved