The gardener’s nightmare

A gardeners nightmare
Slugs and snails
I never find them
When I follow their trail.

It lead to the plants
That were there yesterday
They’re left full of holes
Or eaten away.

This means war
What shall I use
Pellets or traps
I will not lose.

The organic pellets
That make them itch
Like the wool jumper
You had to ditch.

Or the copper tape
The electric shock surprise
Fried with  plenty garlic
Something I’ve not tried.

The buried trap
Filled with beer
Died feeling happy
Without any fear.

The final thought
Fling them next door
we used to be friends,
but not anymore

Written by Pat Noon