Antonia and the Sweet Nectar

Antonia Ant crawled to the big white door,

The gateway to the human’s habitat.

She had been nominated as Scout of Indoors,

To see where the good food was at.

This was the mission she had hoped for.

She was hesitant, but she knew what to do.

All she had to do was crawl under the door

And pray she wouldn’t end up on the bottom of a shoe.

She crawled under the door, and looked around,

Her legs still shaking and trembling.

Strange human smells were abound

And this area was huge and unsettling.

She stood as still as a stone,

For her soul was in great disharmony.

She yearned for the safety of home,

But she needed food for her colony.

She knew in her heart and mind

She couldn’t abandon her mission without trying.

What great stores would she find,

And how would she find them without dying?

She had only walked a few steps from the door,

When her antennae started twitching.

There was something on the wooden floor.

Its scent was sweet and bewitching.

She crawled to the corner closest to the door,

And saw a small, strange container.

It contained clear liquid.

Antonia tasted it. It was nectar!

This nectar was unlike any she’d ever tasted,

It was sweeter than sugar and honey.

As she drank more and more of it,

The nectar warmed her little tummy.

Why on earth would the humans leave this?

This liquid tasted splendid!

How foolish they must be,

To leave such a spoil unattended!

She drank more of the heavenly liquid,

And hurried back to her colony.

She let them taste the spoil she found,

They agreed, “It is a wonderful bounty!”

More scouting ants went to the nectar,

And brought it back to the colony.

They ate and ate and ate and ate.

It was just so yummy!

The nectar’s fame grew faster than weeds,

Ants young and old had a taste.

“This is liquid manna,” they said.

“Silly humans always let food go to waste!”

When Antonia took another sip of nectar,

Her tummy felt warmer than ever.

But then her stomach started burning,

“What’s happening?” she began to wonder.

She felt fatigued; her legs grew weak.

Her pace became wobbly and slow.

She didn’t understand what was happening to her.

Poor Antonia didn’t know.

“Maybe the nectar will help,” she thought.

But the burning did not cease.

Instead, she only felt more ill,

And the burning began to increase!

Then she remembered the thought she had

Upon first finding the nectar as she scouted alone.

Why would humans leave nectar unattende

When they didn’t want ants in their home?

Dread came upon her as reality set in.

She knew exactly why.

The humans weren’t careless. It was a trick.

They wanted them all to die!

That nectar wasn’t nectar at all!

She rushed to her friends to warn them.

They couldn’t eat any more of that liquid.

That stuff was actually poison!

“Don’t eat it!” she tried to say.

“The nectar is killing us all!”

But before she could get one word out,

She fell and curled up into a ball.

Her friends were shocked; the death was so sudden.

They did a quick investigation,

But since the poison killed its victims slowly,

No one made the connection.

That night, Antonia’s friends proposed a toast,

To their dearly departed friend.

They raised cups of nectar and said,

“To Antonia! May her legacy never end!”

The scouts kept retrieving the liquid manna

It was the best food ever!

A few more ants got sick and died,

But they couldn’t put two and two together.

The ants were too busy to ponder or worry,

About a few ants’ sudden expiration.

Ants died every day, after all,

So why start a thorough investigation?

There was no time for such things,

And it’s not like it mattered much anyway.

It’s not like the ants would go extinct.

The Queen made new ants every day.

The liquid was brought to The Queen.

The Queen drank it and was made merry.

“The sweet liquid manna is delicious,” she said.

“Get more, and do not tarry!”

The poor ants were oblivious

Of what they were putting inside them,

Oblivious to the poisonous borax

That was destroying their digestive system.

The busy mound was always full of life,

But weeks later, the whole mound was still.

Queen and all lay curled up on the ground.

Only death filled the anthill.

Beware, little scout ants

Who break into houses for scraps.

It is better to stay outdoors to forage

Than be killed by humans’ crafty traps.

Note: I originally wrote and published this poem a few years ago. I had titled it “Antony and the Sweet Nectar.” However, upon learning that most ants in a colony are female, I recently made some edits and changed the title. I also added a few more verses and tried to improve on the rhymes from my original poem.