[Graham King]

I've had two goes at this, from opposite viewpoints:


“Them!” As in old B-movies,
We’re now facing ant-attacks;
They’re making for the trifle
And (worse) creeping up my slacks.
I wish we’d brought a rifle,
Or some flamethrower backpacks –
Oh why did we decide to come and picnic?

Wasps? They wouldn’t be so bad;
These hornets are far worse!
Some armaments would make me glad -
Their lack just makes me curse.
Is DDT still outlawed? Gad!
Try swatting with a purse...
Oh why did we decide to come and picnic?

‘Scenic views?’ Oh I suppose
There’s your red face and mine,
Begrimed with sweat and bugged by woes -
If that look suits us fine?
These swarms will surely join our toast –
They’ve brought their own sweet whine.


and (the point of view I feel more sympathy with):


The horror! Lids are on too tight;
No chance to swiftly wing in
For an opportunistic bite
Of whatever they bring in.
These humans have our end in sight,
But not our ends! We suffer
The loss of gifts at summer’s height,
Now picnickers are tougher.

No more their fear of yesteryear
At wasp’s buzz or ant-sighting;
With sprays and zapping traps, it’s clear
They’re undismayed: it’s slighting!
We used to rule the countryside,
And they were the invaders;
Now their defence is multiplied,
And see how weak they’ve made us.

Hermetic sealing – unappealing - how unfeeling!
Pesticides, insecticides; electrocuting, persecuting.
We only claim a tiny share; but do these humans care?
No: “Bug out of our picnics,” they all say. Ah, how unfair!