ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Tiny Green Warriors

They were feasting on the dog food, so I set upon their trail
up the downpipe near the toilet and along the back porch rail.
Down the far end near the balustrade they found a palm fond hanging low
but it only touched the railing every time the wind would blow.

Then five or six would scurry and across the void would charge
till the wind would move the fond again and make the gap too large.
I traced them as they meandered through branches high above my head
and found where they had build their home in the hibiscus near the shed.

I marvelled at its fine construction, leaves pulled both left and right
held in place with silken threads that drew the structure tight.
They bristled as I shook the branch their abdomens held high.
Like soldiers, battle ready, weapons reaching to the sky.

Should I destroy this structure? I could, I had the power.
But I must have stood and watched them for nigh on near an hour.
I used a stick to make a hole where two flattened branches met.
Their workers streamed out into battle to face this awful threat.

These tiny arboreal creatures so small and yet so brave.
prepared to die in battle, for their offspring they must save.
Were they such a problem, did they cause such grief or fright.
Should I destroy the fruits of all their labour like some coward in the night?

Would it make a lot of difference if I simply let them be?
Was there a need to smash their home, none that I could see.
I left the nest and ventured back to where the fond did sway
I trimmed the branches back, let them live to fight another day.

Bob Pacey ( C )

Good on you Bob - everything in nature has its place and that is a great story with a beaut moral to it. If perchance you do get bitten should they become somewhat ungrateful - a cheap bottle of roll on deodorant takes the sting away..good for most insect bites.

My house at Deception Bay I named 'Mingajibbi' which in the local dialect meant home of green ants or so I was told.

Some good descriptive passages there Bob. And you used a simile, very appropriate for the theme.

I think you managed to bring the little scene to life in this piece by naming specific things. Goodonya. Well done I reckon Bob.

Who said an old dog cannot learn new tricks.

Not once did I mention green ants.


Yes master


Wax On Wax Off

Bob

Must have been an omen. I went to a poets function and a local writer got up and read a short story about, you guessed it Green Ants.


Bob

G/day Bob,
I enjoyed that and it reminds me of my encounters with Bull Ant at one of my bush camps,
I've written a couple of poems about these encounters and will tack one on the end of this.

Cheers Terry





ANT WARS 2 – THE COLD WAR

I’m sitting by their nest again and wondering what they’ll do,
perhaps they’ll just ignore me and our truce will see me through.
But soon I see them massing on the ramparts of their nest,
I reckon that they’re glaring at this overgrown pest.

They quickly send out scouts that circle warily around,
then head back to the nest again to tell just what they’ve found.
And soon they make their next move as they circle right and left,
a classic pincer foray, and their movement is quite deft.

I can see they’re more aggressive than they’ve ever been before,
and sense that they mean business, and this may end in war.
And Next they charge full frontal and one makes it to my boot,
he’s armed and dangerous, and looks a wicked sort of brute.

I quickly flick him off my foot and watch him in retreat,
he never turns his ugly back, but knows that he’s been beat.
My camp is always under siege; encircled most that day,
it’s now a war of nerves and they refuse to go away.

A sudden change in weather; and its now become quite cold,
its had a marked affect; the ants are nowhere near as bold.
I’m forced to sit behind the van to dodge the freezing gale,
ants have resumed their glaring; but its all to no avail.

Another trip comes to an end and nothing much has changed,
the ants are seething in their nest and getting more deranged.
I’ve kept the ants at bay; I’ve passed the latest test,
and as a parting gift, I throw a stone into their nest.



© T.E. Piggott August 2009

Oh Terry I have battles with the little green buggers every day. Hit a nest this arvo when putting in a new tv line but they got the boss instead of me. You should have seen him dance .


We used to put dead toads on the bullants nest then come back a day or two later to get the skeletons for sience class.


They picked them clean. aggressive little creatures.


Bob

Bob that’s an epic poem but it could’ve been three lines.

The little green blighters are back again,
So I hit ‘em wiff the can o’ spray,
‘an watched them disappear down the drain.

TTFN

That probably would have been me a few years back Dave as well but I seem to be getting a little mellow as I age and Live and let Live is me new motto.

Oh sorry does not apply to Canetoads. I know they are our State Of Origin mascot but I hate the mongrels and anyway how could we take the field as the Mosquitoes.


Bob

Your state of origin mascot is a "pest"? How bizarre Booob.