Don’t call me a slug, I think that’s unfair
Just because I’m slimy and have no hair
It makes me sound fat, lazy, a slob
When what I do is a valuable job
I glide on a cushion of silvery thread
And eat all the greens in your vegetable bed
I clear the soil of plants and weeds
But would never dare to touch your freshly sowed seeds
My children are many and can often be seen
Keeping your garden green less and clean
I don’t like salt for I know it will kill
A sodium chloride suicide pill
Or them little blue pellets you sprinkle around
They’re hard to avoid so low to the ground
So call me a friend, a pal, a mate
Coexistence would be just great
Don’t call me a slug, a cat or a whale
I’d rather be known as a homeless snail
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well done ..steve.