Lessons Of The Ants Poem by venessa ambrose

By the sunny nights
The tiny ants gather their tithe
Scrambling a feast
For the days when the roaring rainy beast
Blast the forgotten banquet
Of man's fallen bits
They drill the soil
And reserve their humble toil

In a pile
The small creatures roll up in a file
Guarding unity above all else
Relishing the harvest in oneness
Beneath earth's pony holes
And predators crying owls
With nascent narcissism
The kingdom grow above pesticide criticism

A group with one weapon
With the facade of silence always worn on
Wordless values beyond mare word
Scavengers with pride eroding all odd
One may wonder
Does the rivers of chatter not flow
Through their arteries
I ponder
Such spunk show

My little brothers
Those who gave me a note to hover
When I was younger
I believe all your race lies blind
And deprived of sight
With my hands I became an obstacle
They outsmarted me with wits
Crafting paths I knew nothing of

I ticked the knife
Waiting like a new wife
For the war within the ants
The strive for the presidency
And the empty chatter of aspirants
Oh! Such nuisancy never came
They lived like a people with more to live than a false name
And relished the piquancy of followership

A race whose feeble hands
Discovered the lesson of all lands
That the seasons came for a reasons
While the humble lives ample
Them who believed
The duty of a follower outshadows that of the leaders
And true sight begins from foresight
The lessons of the ants
Is the story I chant