No honey

Dear Editor:

Malathion, malathion

What a beautiful name

Malathion, malathion

You have earned your fame

Malathion, malathion

Oh how we love you

Since you came to see us

Mosquitoes are few

Bugs don’t like you

But people do

For you kill all the bugs

But people, just a few

I tell my great grandkids 

Of the butterflies

And how sometimes

They would fill the sky

With their big wings 

Of red, blue and green

Reflecting the sunlight

With a golden sheen

And the bugs we called

The firefly

And how some nights

They would come out to fly

Their little light flashes

Would light up the sky

Sometimes the stars 

Would seem to fade

By the light that those

Little flashing bugs made

And the little spider

In the corner made a web

And ate all the bugs

That we wished were dead

My great grandkids

Laugh so hard

They hold their tummy

They snicker, giggle and whisper

That grandpa is getting

A little funny

I tell them of the bees 

That brought us honey so sweet

They hide in the grass

And sting our bare feet

But we didn’t mind

Cause their honey can’t be beat

Now you can buy 

Man made honey

But I don’t eat it 

Cause it tastes real funny

And the big fuzzy moth

That came out at night

And fluttered around

The outside light

And about the little cricket

That would sing us to sleep

Now you listen all night

You’ll never hear a peep

And the red breasted robin

That sang a great song

They ate only bugs

So now they’re all gone

And about the little bat

Like a mouse that could fly

And catch the little bugs

As they soar through the sky

Now there are no bugs

So they all did die

The little grasshopper

He could jump six feet

He made a good meal

For the funny old toad

That lived in the pipe

That went under the road

He could not walk much

But he could fly three feet

And catch a big grasshopper

With his long sticky tongue

As he ate it all up

He said “Yum, yum, yum”

Now the grasshoppers 

Have all gone

The funny toad has passed on

Malathion, Malathion

Oh how we thank you

For the bugs are all gone

You didn’t even leave a few

                                                                                         

Lin Ottinger

Moab