Ticks Are Scary
(Mistress Mary)

Ticks are scary;
in your hair the
louse-like varmints will go.
Carapace-shelled,
they bite then swell,
drinking sweet “ade,” Type A or O.


Whether Blood’s Blue
(Little Boy Blue)

Whether blood’s blue
or not high-born,
they’ll creep from the hedgerow,
make you forlorn.
They are ravenous
and they never sleep.
If they bite,
from you your blood will seep.
(In goes the pricking probe,
hard and deep.)

You don’t shake ’em,
you will cry.
Before they chew,
squash ’em till they die.


Ticks Drill, Ticks Swill, Sunk In
(Diddle Diddle Dumpling)

Ticks drill, ticks drill, sunk in once stuck on;
them we dread, the bloodsucking spawn!
No shoes doff or they’ll hop on.
Ticks drill, ticks drill, sunk in—much duds don!

Ticks drill, ticks swill, sunk in once stuck on;
them we dread, Lyme Disease they spawn!
No shoes doff or they’ll hop on.
Ticks drill, ticks swill, sunk in—much deet don!

Ticks drill, ticks fill, sunk in once stuck on;
them we dread. . .serum sucked, you’re wan!
Brush ’em off before they latch on.
Ticks drill, ticks swill, sumpin’—much blood gone!


Ticks Drill Then Suck It
(Little Miss Muffet)

Ticks drill then suck it,
so you must pluck it:
the head, without delay.

It’s worse then a spider
bite; be no backslider
stop biters: kill stuck ticks, or pay!