Pray, dear mantis, are
your limbs bent in contrition?
Perhaps this is just a
sign or a sin of omission.
When I see you still as a
statue, could you be praying,
or maybe youre a
mom whos paused for egg laying?
Most eyes quite deceived
would swear they see a mirage.
Arms tucked tight, you
seem so invisible; what camouflage!
The neat way your verdant
color blends in so well.
Are you silent in thought
or just waiting? So hard to tell.
Why, so motionless you
are, its a wonder you dont tan.
Is a tasty tidbit part of
your future plan?
If your prey could see
you, Id bet theyd stop and shout,
Oops, a predator
straight ahead. Better take a new route.
Ah, could that be a bug
lunch approaching on wing?
Ah, yes! Once you are
sated can I expect you to sing?
No? Perhaps you could hop
on my hand in a spritely dance.
For you, Ill
whistle a new tune and watch you prance.
In awe, I see you twist
about in contortions.
No way on this earth
could I replicate those distortions.
Each time I try, my limbs
end up in kinky knots.
Someone, please help me
unwind; Ive tried, Ive tried lots and lots.
The ancients were quite
sure you had miraculous powers.
Well, all I can see is
you hiding in flowers.
No doubt bored with my
wonder, youre off in a leap.
Your sleek proportions
fill a memory Ill always keep.