Ants, ants here and there,
Tiny black sugar ants, everywhere,
Marching across my counter tops,
Searching for food and spilled water drops.
Each Spring they come without fail,
Making a long thin black trail,
Coming and going to the morsel they've found,
Pulling off pieces and then homeward bound.
Or gathering around a sticky spot,
(The syrup from breakfast, like as not),
They gather all they can take to nest,
To feed their queen and the nursery, I guess.
As well as to stock up for cold winter days.
(Ants are noted for their frugal ways).
They work so hard gathering their stuff,
So that when winter comes they will have enough.
Into the sugar and creamer, of course,
Investigating every potential food source,
They miss nothing that's not put away,
They're in my kitchen searching every day.
I wipe down my counters and mop the floor,
Spray all around baseboard and door,
Nothing deters their determination,
To come in and seek their daily ration.
Ants, ants here and there,
Tiny black sugar ants, everywhere,
Marching across my counter tops,
I'll be ready for fall when this all stops.