“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Yet if not worms, than what, pray tell, are we? A tube within a tube is a worm’s form; No other trait defining can there be. Though humble be the worms of layman’s thought Great richness lies in their diversity. Such wonders in this world that God hath wrought Exemplified in blood and soil and sea.
Their feathers sparkle, iridescent strands – Nowhere can be found such great beauty. To touch them is to take fire in one’s hands – The pain of burning, second, third degree. Such strength and power in their mighty jaws! To sever foes in twain with gruesome glee. To feast upon their victims is their cause. No tiger matches their ferocity.
A dragon filled with flaming, wondrous life; Writhing, dancing, ‘til their fates decree. Then, in passion sharper than a knife Burst asunder in their ecstasy. A worm is but a creature, long and thin; With pow’r of life, and motion’s faculty. But see, by all that nature hides within, Why worms so oft are named “Aphrodite”.
They dwell within, in heart and flesh and blood Key players in our grand ecology. And even those which wriggle through the mud No watch compares to their complexity. A worm is more than just a mucous sheen. It’s beauty, passion, pow’r exemplary. A tube within a tube you’ve always been. And all these things and more you are to me.
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So yeah I wrote a poem about worms
