The Ticks’ Picnic

If you go up to the Moor today
You may not come home alone,
If you’ve been up to the Moor today
You’d better check skin and bone,
Cos every tick that ever there was
Is gathered there for no good because
These days are the days the Ticks
Are having their picnics.

Picnic time for tiny ticks
And all the bigger ones,
Are waiting with empty tums.
They cling to tips of waving grass
Watching for us, the feast, to pass.
As we go brushing by they jump
And creep, tip-toed, right up our trunk,
To find a cosy secluded spot,
Then stick in that mouth tube they’ve got,
Cos these are days the Ticks
Are holding their picnics.

If you go down to the woods today
Tuck your trousers into your socks,
Cos that’s the way to stop their play–
Creating some Tick road-blocks.
Cos every Tick that ever there was
Is gathered there for no good because
These are the days the Ticks
Are hungry for picnics.

Picnic time for hungry Ticks –
When you get home at night,
(Cos you wont’ve felt them bite),
Make sure there’s no one hiding there,
In crease or cranny or hair,
And ask a dear friend who’s kind
To thoroughly check you from behind,
Cos these are the ways the Ticks
Enjoy their picnics.

Picnic time is over, Ticks,
No oils, no fag ends,–don’t press them,
Cos they sick up their guts if you stress ‘em!
So get the tweezers or better, a Tick Remover,
Slide it in gently and do the manoeuvre –
A twist and a pull will get it out,
Then flush it away so there’s no doubt.
These are the ways to put an end
To their picnics.

If days or weeks later a “bulls-eye” rash
Should appear round the bite, then you must dash
Off to the doctor and get some pills,
As Lyme Disease has all manner of ills:
Like ‘flu and pains in joints and brain,
And all of your energy gone down the drain.
Yes, this is the daze the ticks can leave you in
After their picnics.

(c) Sally Willow