Hedge-Light
This firefly is all a lie –
He has no flame in him !
The light that’s seen
Is cold and green –
And most of all, so dim !
Flashing out his Morse,
Of course,
To bring the ladies in.
At least he does emit a bit,
And pimps his abdomin –
Unlike the many lads in other species,
Where the dads
Leave all the glow-up to the dames.
And some have given up entirely,
Never even slightly fiery,
In defiance of their names.
I guess he’s earned the term,
When he’s been sparking since a glowworm,
Putting-on a show.
But boy, he’s still a slacker,
More a squib than fire-cracker –
Just a pin-prick in the black,
Who’s turned his wattage way down low.
Or maybe it was all because his loneliness
Was all a sign –
A cry of fading prominence,
A dwindling from the present tense,
His species in decline ?
They used to fly so thick, so dense –
And even now, beside the fence,
They sometimes congregate and look so fine !
Alone, he hardly glorifies –
But when the fireflies fill the skies,
That’s when they really shine !
Rhyming Couplets 