Away With Worry: Oh Poor Mole - Or Should They Be?
Angela Black considers the life of the mole.
Here we strike a sadder sound
Moles are blind, live underground
The creatures cannot help being born
To spend a life churning the lawn
It's only at night we'd see the moles
They come to drink from out their holes
Nearby there's sure to be a stream
They smell the water that can't be seen.
Moles are happy in their way
They must be as they're here to stay
Don't take note of the gadener's scorn
It's no big job to mend the lawn.
