A Day In The Life of Barry The Beetle

Barry the Beetle was getting bored, he’d finished all the food he had stored,

 When a worm said ‘I am told that Willy the Weevil has a terrible cold

Your friend Mr Beetle, may have the flu, so I’d go and see him if I were you.’

The problem Barry continued to face as he put on his hat and fixed it in place,      

Was one of his legs was simply too short and the other five legs often got caught,

In a tangle of twigs and little loose stones which really upset his light brittle bones.

 He kept tripping up which made him feel sick as all he had was a small walking stick,

 He’d made from a bone in a tin of fish paste lying around in rubbish and waste.

 But it wasn’t enough to put Barry off  from helping his mate with a serious cough.

But when he stepped out, he slipped on some moss which made the old Beetle feel really cross

Still, he wouldn’t give up and gave it a go, one step at a time but it was ever so slow.                                      

‘This will take ages,’ he started to groan, ‘it’s not very good for my little bones.’

 Barry frowned and started to worry. ‘Good gracious me I will have to hurry

  I don’t want to feel a man’s crunching boot, crushing the ground with me underfoot.

  Everyone knows that beetles stay home whenever a man is kicking up stones.’

But then he met up with Silvia Spider spinning her web ever wider and wider

Staring and glaring with all her eight eyes, weaving her silk to catch passing flies.

Her teeth looked sharp, her face grew darker ‘What are you after you green nosey parker?’

It’s true that Barry was an odd shade of green and all of the grubs and insects that flew,

Completely agreed they never had seen a beetle with such a peculiar hue.

 But it wasn’t his fault the wonky fish stick wobbled so much it made him look sick.

‘Oh, Miss Spider,’ he politely explained ‘I’m seeing Willy Weevil who may be in pain.’ 

‘That evil weevil always complains, and I bet on my silk it’s just a small sprain.

 They are the worst kind of grub you can find, and I know many just bear that in mind’

When he bites my web he gets on my nerves so the pain he has is all he deserves

He may be suffering with a cold or the flu, but he makes such a fuss, really, it’s true.

He never calls around or invites me to tea and hasn’t a good word to say about me.’

‘Sorry Miss Spider,’ as he bid her farewell glad to be free from her sly spinning spell.

 But just then he tripped over Tony the Ant whose army was stealing in between plants

 Everyone knew him as Mighty Big Tone because of the size of his very large bones.

Tone stared at Barry’s rickety stick and thought for a moment it was something to nick

 ‘Gor blimey,’ he said and had to think twice whether it would fetch a reasonable price.

 But to Barry’s surprise Tony started to yell and a line of ants brought a broken eggshell.

‘Ere,’ he said with a deep throated shout, ‘try this for size, it should get you about.’

 Snapping a piece, he wrapped it in grass ‘Backwards, forwards or even too fast.

 This’ll keep you healthy and well.’ He winked and gave him a piece of the shell.             

  Tippety tippety tippety tap Barry was hoping the shell wouldn’t snap.

  Avoiding the frogs who wanted to meet him, not to chat but just to eat him,

  And not at all sure which route he should take he had to talk to a duck or a drake.

 But the duck was too busy and hadn’t a clue and the lazy old drake was hopeless too.

 Barry said sadly ‘I’ll have to turn round’ when a centipede scuttled over the ground.

‘Follow me follow me I know the way I’ll get you to see the Weevil today.’

  Barry was panting and red in the face as he tried to keep up with the centipede’s pace.

  The noise of the tippety tippety tapping, made Barry sound as if he was clapping.

  Crawling along as thunder and lightning made his journey a little more frightening.

Barry arrived at the Weevil’s front door. ‘Willy it’s Barry, you know me for sure.’

Nothing but silence and not a thing stirred, so Barry wondered if the Weevil had heard.

He shouted again until he was hoarse, ‘Hey, Willy Weevil it’s Barry of course.’

Then a bent figure pushed open the door but shivering so much he fell on the floor.

‘Barry,’ said Willy as he started to moan, ‘how did you find the way to my home?

 I’ve got a cold that won’t leave me alone, it makes me feel I’ve been hit by a stone

 I can’t stop coughing it must be the flu. I can’t call a doctor so what do I do?’

‘I’ll feed you water until you feel good and then you can eat small pieces of wood.

It’s terribly smelly and stuffy in here let’s dig a small pathway and get some fresh air.’

 It took a long time before Willy felt well. ‘Talk to me Barry, what tales can you tell?’

 So, he began with Sylvia Spider, but Willy said gruffly ‘I never did like her,

 And knowing me I’d run out of luck and make a good meal for a drake or a duck

Tony the Ant is a really bad lad, he’d happily steal everything that you had.

You are a brave beetle there’s no doubt it’s true I couldn’t do the things that you do.

Would I have been able to wriggle to you if you’d gone down with a cold or the flu?

I don’t think I would make it that far I’d probably get caught and put in a jar,

By all of the people who cleaned out a house from lice, mice, louse or a mouse.

Worried I’d chew their doors made of wood and of course, you know I would if I could.’

‘Who’d be a weevil most grubs would say, with nothing but wood to eat every day?

There aren’t many places to wander and roam and settle and say this feels like home.’

The Weevil sniffled, ‘I don’t think it’s fair, there’s no one to love us and no one to care.’

 ‘Never mind Willy,’ Barry said with a sigh, ‘you may not care for strangers outside

 But as a good friend I could not keep away while you were alone here day after day.’

 So, they chatted and argued long into the night, and both fell asleep until it was light.

‘Time to go home,’ Barry said yawning as soon as he saw the morning was dawning.

 ‘So soon so soon before the next moon, why must you go it’s not even noon?’

 ‘I am sorry Willy but I’m getting old and I can’t stay out too long in the cold.’

Slowly but surely as he lent on his stick Barry the Beetle went clickety click.

 Willy was sad. ‘Take care my good friend will it be long til we meet up again?’   

‘Who knows?’ said Barry ‘Time doesn’t wait, I have little life left and it’s getting late.’