Moles

 

We have conflict, the mole and me,
mounds as far as the eye can see.
My favourite place to sit and unwind,
to clear the bustle in my mind,

Beneath the tree upon a hill,
where life is quiet, peaceful, still.

The moles they tunnel underground,
finding worms all fat and round.

They eat their meal and on they go,
the more they eat the more they grow.

On earth each animal has its place,
I just wish moles weren’t in my face.

I stomp and shout, "Please go away",
but no attention do they pay.

These little creatures, totally blind,
alter the landscape, so unkind.

Is there a solution? I don't know
of somewhere else that they can go

I want your mounds all nice and flat.
Please go away and don't come back