Just beneath a holly wreath, lived old Sid the Snail,
who kept it nice and easy, and had nowt for sale,
was not like a magpie, did not steal some glances,
neither was he like a fox, doing silly dances,
he kept himself so quiet, no peacock pride did cheer,
nor was he like an eagle, a symbol saying fear,
a merry little soul, that slithered on the path,
did not boast; or stated roast; that make those monkeys laugh,
chewing on the laurel, he made a friendly prune,
as leaf was dying; Sid was crying; thus, ended little doom,
but on a fateful day, green-fingered trowel did scoop,
then Adam’s eyes did see him, betwixt the twiggy group,
took his shell for necklace, and cast old Sid aside,
to ensure the only scene, was a man’s dirt pride,
lo’ Sid the Snail non-violent, slid right by the guy,
sacrifice of them both; Sid squashed; and man did fly,
landed on a breeze block, weeder’s skull did crush,
poor old Sid; who paid the price; teaching not to rush,
so, when you see a snail, please remember this,
watch where you are walking, else Sid will be death’s kiss!