Sometimes you can't start your day until you get something out of your system

There’s a worm in my garden

How do I knows?

I’ve seen little worm tunnels

under the rose.

Each day when I garden

it’s pink nose appears,

in the peas, in the cabbage

there’s no soil it fears.

I try to avoid each small wormy hovel,

but yesterday morning as I dug with my shovel

I dug through a worm!

I done split it in two!

I created a twain!

What should I do?

Call police?

Call the fire truck?

Perhaps call a medic?

I’d given that worm much, much more than a headache.

It squirmed and it wormed,

it looked such a fright.

I scooped it into a cup

and I watched it all night.

By morning the two worms looked deader than dead

And I figured a funeral would help soothe my head.

As I lay the two worm pieces into the ground

They wiggled and squiggled and crawled all around.

Could it be?

Am I dreaming?

A twain worm is two?

Each piece looked near perfect

almost near good as new.

Now two worms roam my garden

fit and pink as they please.

Neath the cabbage and roses,

And particularly the peas.