I am the Mole.

Not easy to know.

Wherever I go

I travel by hole.


My hill-making hand

Is the best of me.

As a seal under sea

I swim under land.


My nose hunts bright

As a beam of light.

With the prick of a pin

My eyes were put in.


Your Telly’s there.

You feast as you stare.

Worms are my diet.

In dark and in quiet


I don’t eat alone.

At my table sit


And Ancient Brit.



from the collection ‘The Cat and the Cuckoo’