The Cicada Song Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

Large eyes set wide apart on heads,
Short antennae protrude between.
Transparent well veined wings to fly
As leafhoppers can make a scene.

They are not related to grasshoppers,
Nor locusts or flies or moths.
But they are close kin to spittlebugs,
And in action they are no sloth.

They feed on plant nectar and even sap
With their proboscis that they insert,
To gather their candy a sweet delight,
For their main course is also dessert.

Deep in tree branches females lay their eggs,
And are known to be so much meatier
For palates in China, the Congo and Burma,
Who are known to be insect eaters!

Over two hundred species of cicada exist
In countries all over the globe.
Often times called tree crickets,
Every continent is their abode.

A cicada makes a very unique sound.
The males only sound off in “clicks, ”
Much like the clicking toys I used for play
When I was just a kid.

Living underground as nymphs for most of their lives,
Which could be for seventeen years,
Then leave exoskeletons when they emerge
As a reminder they once were here!