There is a little thought beetle deep within my mind; He is going around, searching for a rhyme. He digs out my unconscious thoughts And helps me to write another line. When his work is done, he hibernates And I sit back and smile.
The ladybird flutters around inside my head; She is in search of the pages, I haven't written yet. She zips and darts, flitting from here to there; She is always in a hurry and she is a nervous wreck.
The worm is just turning another corner, in my brain's maze; He's having a look around, to see if there's anything I need to say. Anything I forgot to mention; he will find what needs to be said. The slowly moving worm is lazy, but he is useful in his own way,