From An Ant... Poem by Angela Wybrow

For my colony, I am the explorer scout;
I am sent on ahead, to sniff things out.
When I've found something tasty to eat,
Back to the nest, I beat a hasty retreat.

I inform the others of what I have found,
Then one by one, we climb above ground.
Being a scout is a dangerous occupation;
It takes a lot of guts, and sheer dedication.

Unfortunately, not everyone makes it back;
Some get squashed dead within their tracks.
If humans saw us as creatures, who are living,
Maybe they would be a little more forgiving.

Searching for food is our main passion;
We set about it in a most orderly fashion.
Any foodstuffs which are sticky and sweet,
Are among our very favourite treats to eat.

From door to kitchen, I attempt to dart,
But if I'm spotted, the world falls apart.
If one of us gets spotted, there is panic;
Suddenly, humans run around all manic.

They know I'll return, and tell my friends,
And that this is the very start: not the end.
They know full well that, if they let me go,
Then, into their home, my army will flow.

I'm like a secret agent: dressed in black;
But, against me, the odds are often stacked.
My stakeout is done with utmost precision;
I have to be quick, and make big decisions.

You just have to hope that you won't be seen,
Because humans are cruel, and they're mean.
If for too long a moment, you dare to linger,
Then SPLAT! You'll get squashed by a finger!