Lord of the Ants

I am still winning against the tiny red  

Ants marching into my cocoa mug,     

They’ve been trickling in for hours

Seeking the sweetness of the sugared lees

Of milky cocoa - many dead, drowned,

Sunk, buried in watery 
grave. Many afloat, 
struggling like soldiers  

In a stygian moat

Around a grand redoubt,

Many still marching in, dozens, scores,

Coming in headfirst, blind, thoughtless,

Like foolhardy soldiers.

I have sat for hours, beguiled,

Watching, beaming, slapping my thigh

Like a fat war-winning General,

Like Mr Jehovah cracking up

With laughter while watching

Egyptians going belly-up

In the Red Sea.