Whimsical doggerel written light-heartedly for the Southern Scribes writers group.
All over the world in the dales and on rises
There are ants to be found of all shapes and sizes.
From Antwerp to Antioch, From Antigua to Antrim
There are ants in pants, and fancy ants with a tantrum
But go right down to the South, where the world’s really cold
And the ants won’t come with you I’m reliably told.
There just ain’t any ants, no matter how bold
‘cause there’s nary an ant in Antarctica
In Egypt they march in armies quite large
Their heads are hard plated to act like a barge
Darth Vader looks pretty if you want to compare
Not that the most of us really would care.
They are stronger than oxen considering their size
And they work in teams to complete the surprise
But go down to the bottom of the Earth if you’re wise
‘cause you won’t find any ant in Antarctica.
The Zulus will all put their beds up on bricks
To stave off the Tokoloshe and avoid his cruel tricks
But in fact it’s the ants that bear them away
In the dead of the night mark you, not during the day.
So to be sure if you want to sleep safe & sound
take your bed far down South where no ants abound
At the pole there will be no night perils around
since you won’t see any ant in Antarctica.
But the ants have been with us since the dinosaur’s day
They are warriors and survivors with no time to play
They’re really not nice guys, you don’t want to know one,
they like to take slaves to get their work done
There are big ones and small ones, all sizes they say
One thing I can tell you though, try what you may
you won’t find an ant south of Bright Bay
‘cause there ain’t any ant in Antarctica