LADYBIRDS

God’s only a little boy really!
That’s why he made the ladybird,
Like a tiny tank, marauding freely;
Greenfly-gobbler, quite absurd.

With clockwork legs and plastic armour,
Nursery-toy colours and shape to match,
Black-spotted, red or yellow charmer;
(But stinging nerve-juice to make us scratch!)

Naturalists - (those big little boys!) –
Tell us the colours are thoroughly practical.
Warning to predators: this taste annoys;
And hot-spots for warm starts, thoroughly tactical.

Did you ever think you’d see a tank fly?
Scales lift from fully-adapted controls.
Under the blazing summer sky
They zoom and swarm like flying jewels.

Wham! into me or Wham! into a roseleaf;
Environmental pest-control;
The gardener’s friend, the aphids’ grief,
Defender of the roses: greenfly patrol.

Down at their level, we all love ladybirds,
Clustered for warmth in the new spring sun;
Back to our childhood, loving those spotted sherds.
God who made the ladybird must be a lot of fun!