One quick word in conclusion to the subject of pests. You’ve got to feel for the poor wee mites. I mean, they are just trying to live and procreate themselves. We just exterminate them, because they like the same things as us, and sometimes they are being bullied by other creatures too.
Working amongst all that nature you just sometimes can’t help being awed and inspired to become creative. So today, whilst peacefully listening to the drone of the petrol powered brush cutter, I’ve composed this poem about the red spider mite. It doesn’t actually affect us much, it likes greenhouses apparently.
The Spider Mite
There once was a little red spider mite,
Who spat at a spider out of spite.
The spider spat back, saying: “you little shite!
I’m a real spider, you’re just a mite.”
Working amongst all that nature you just sometimes can’t help being awed and inspired to become creative. So today, whilst peacefully listening to the drone of the petrol powered brush cutter, I’ve composed this poem about the red spider mite. It doesn’t actually affect us much, it likes greenhouses apparently.
The Spider Mite
There once was a little red spider mite,
Who spat at a spider out of spite.
The spider spat back, saying: “you little shite!
I’m a real spider, you’re just a mite.”
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