A silly young cricket
Sat on a wicket
Singing all summer long
He strummed his guitar
And danced all the while
Other creatures were busy
Gathering their pile
Soon winter came
And he began to complain
For he hadn’t a morsel to nibble on.
So off he went
In the wind and rain
To the little black ants
For a mouthful of grain.
But ants don’t lend
They don’t borrow
“You should have worked, “they said in sorrow.
Word treasure
- morsel
- — a small amount or bite-sized piece
- nibble
- — to take small bites of something
- sorrow
- — feeling sad and unhappy
✦ the end ✦
