Air is cold, I’m shivering,

Legs so skinny, quivering,

Ants or beetles, if you’re near,

Eating you would bring me cheer.

 

Not much sap is dripping down,

Though I’ve drilled holes all around,

Maybe though,  an ant will scurry,

Running off in such a hurry.

 

I’ve no chocolate to coat it,

Nature simply won’t promote it,

But the crunchy flavour’s good,

With a hint of fir tree wood.

Watch me skipping round the tree,

Eating ants and bugs with glee,

Little holes, the bark endures,

Graciously, my meal ensures.

 

 

I apologize for the background noise of dogs barking and garbage trucks backing up somewhere in the world outside my own little world.