by Celia Warren
Right up to his saddle
And never went there again.
The Wise Old Worm
A wise old worm squirmed under an oak,
The more it saw, the less it spoke.
The less it spoke, the more it learned.
Why aren’t we all like that wise old worm?
A Prickly Task
Slightly Soiled is slightly scared and here’s the reason why:
some ants have seen a dragon in the nettle-bed nearby.
He thinks he might investigate but dares not go alone.
He wriggles off to find his friend but Humble’s not at home.
Mrs Worm’s a bit concerned, she’s heard the rumour, too.
“When you catch up with Humble, please make sure she stays with you.”
So off towards the nettle-bed young Slightly starts to squirm,
feeling quite the boldest of the bravest kind of worm.
Soon, as he hides behind a rock, he spots a pair of wings,
big and green and prickly: “The dragon!” Slightly sings.
And though the young worm trembles, it’s not quite all he feared:
the dragon isn’t scary – it’s more a little … weird!
Then, when it shakes its spiky wings, its head comes into view.
Slightly Soiled starts to laugh: “Oh, Humble Worm! It’s you!”
The nettle-bed lies just below a prickly holly tree.
The ‘wings’ are simply holly leaves on Humble’s back, you see.
She’s trying hard to shake them off – they’re heavy and they prick!
But Slightly Soiled soon sets her free with skill (and one small stick).
“Today I slayed a dragon!” cries Slightly Soiled. He’s proud.
And Humble Worm cries, “So did I!” But, maybe, not as loud.
Mary Had a Wiggly Worm
Mary had a wiggly worm,
Its face was pink as candy,
And when poor Mary lost her pen
Her worm came in quite handy.
It squirmed with her to school one day
And stayed for half a term,
So Mary dipped it in the ink
And wrote with Wiggly Worm.
More Charming Worms
Though worms enjoy dampness,
life can become too damp,
and that is why they show their heads
should anybody stamp.
Some folk hold competitions
to see who can charm the most:
earthworms, in the country,
or lugworms, at the coast.
And now I see you’re thinking:
Why trick the foolish things?
Well, speaking strictly for myself:
to find a worm that sings
And, once they reach the surface,
each worm must take its chance,
but if I find a worm that sings
I’ll teach it how to dance.
Mr Mole
Mister Mole
He dug a hole
As fast as he could do it.
A worm in the field
Held a stone as a shield
So Moley could not chew it.
Incey Wincey Wormy
Incey Wincey Wormy
Wriggled up a root.
Down came the rain and
On went his boot.
His boot filled with water.
Oh, what a pain!
So Incey Wincey Wormy
Emptied out the rain.
Simple Squirmy
Simple Squirmy met a wormy
trying to uncoil,
Said Simple Squirmy to the wormy,
“Let me taste your soil.”
Said the wormy to Simple Squirmy,
“Show me first your leaf.”
Said Simply Squirmy to the wormy
“I lost it to a thief.”
Hickory Dickory Dee
Hickory dickory dee,
A worm squirmed up a tree.
An apple dropped,
The poor worm flopped.
Hickory dickory dee.
Hickory dickory doze,
A worm squirmed up a rose.
It met a spike
It did not like,
Hickory dickory doze.
Hickory dickory dellie,
A worm squirmed up my wellie.
I dug up a spud,
The worm ate the mud,
Hickory dickory dellie.
Wormy Warnings
See a worm, pick it up,
All day long you’ll have good luck.
See a worm, let it lie,
You’ll eat worms before you die.
More Wormy Warnings
Meet a worm on Monday: have a happy day;
Talk to a worm on Tuesday: trouble on its way;
Wink at a worm on Wednesday: win a lucky bet;
Throw a worm on Thursday: deserve all you get;
Befriend a worm on Friday: look out for a letter;
Stroke a worm on Saturday: something even better;
See a worm on Sunday, and all the week ahead
Worms will be wriggling inside your cosy bed.
Weather Worms
One for sunshine,
Two for showers,
Three for a downpour,
watering the flowers.
Four for a snowflake,
Five for a gale,
Six for a thunderstorm,
lightning and hail.
Worms on Ice
It’s winter, and the puddles are smooth and hard with ice.
They glisten in the sunshine, so brightly, they entice
Humble Worm and Slightly Soiled to curl up side by side
on one big, shiny laurel leaf: a sledge that lets them slide.
The young worms think it’s great to skate
and fail to see it’s growing late.
The sun sinks lower in the sky.
The air turns colder – snowflakes fly.
“Oh no! My tail is frozen stiff,” cries Slightly Soiled, alarmed.
Humble Worm is freezing, too. Can they survive unharmed?
A sudden shadow overhead makes both worms cry, “What’s that?”
A warm and furry feeling helps them realise – it’s a cat!
Then, suddenly, a hot, pink sponge gives both the worms a lick.
At once, the worms are warm enough to squirm again – and quick!
They wriggle off their leafy sledge and squiggle off the puddle
to tumble safely down their hole and back home for a cuddle.
Worms in Winter
The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the earthworm do then,
poor thing?
He’ll tunnel down deep,
And have a long sleep,
And keep himself warm in his hole,
poor thing.
Dreams in a Drought
A worm in a drought
digs deep till it rains
while wonderful dreams
fill her tiny brains:
she rides on a rainbow,
swims seven seas,
gallops on mouseback
to blackberry trees
she zooms to the moon
at phenomenal speed
and parachutes home
on a sycamore seed
And then when the rain comes
she wakes with a smile
drinks deep and will sleep
for another wee while.
Two Little Worms
Two little worms, all ready for bed:
Giggly Gladys and wriggly Fred.
One tiny cap on each little head,
All ready to cuddle and snuggle in bed.
The Ghost Worm
Sir Wilberforce Worm – a gentleworm, he
lived under the roots of his family tree.
He was born in luxurious lawns facing south,
with a silver-birch leaf, so they say, in
his mouth.
On best British oak leaves each night he would dine,
washed down with a goblet of sycamore wine.
Sir Wilberforce Worm was a kind worm and wise,
though now he’s long gone to squirm on in the skies
while his wriggly descendants all blissfully boast
that Sir Wilberforce Worm is their ancestral ghost.
And sometimes, at midnight, on dark Halloween
the white misty shape of a worm can be seen:
A shadowy spectre, Sir Wilberforce, he
haunts high leaf and low in his family tree.
Wee Willie Wormy
Wee Willie Wormy
Squirms round a root,
Upsoil and downsoil,
In his muddy boot,
Squirming to the surface,
Wriggling round a rock,
“Are the worms all underground?
It’s past eight o’clock!”
A Worm’s Prayer
Before he curls up for the night
an earthworm always prays:
Keep me safe from hungry mole,
from rain that floods and drowns.
May gentle leaves be all that fall
in reds and golds and browns.
And whether the soil be sandy,
or whether the soil be clay,
may no rough stone confound my hole
or block my squirmy way.
Rock-a-bye Wormy
Rock-a-bye wormy
safe underground,
When the dog digs
no worm will be found.
When the dog hides
a big, juicy bone,
Wormy keeps sleeping
under a stone.
This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Publishing
Copyright © 2014 A & C Black
Text copyright © 2014 Celia Warren
Illustrations copyright © 2014 Sean Longcroft
First published 2014 by A & C Black,
an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square
London WC1B 3DP
www.bloomsbury.com
The right of Celia Warren and Sean Longcroft to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library.
eISBN: 978-1-4729-0024-1
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