For months in nook and crack they lay,
our Jim the Stick’s lost progeny;
a faulty choice of sobriquet
since it turned out that he was she.
Untended eggs slept on unchecked
that summer we weren’t indisposed
to hosting Jim the stick insect
who’d visited when school was closed.
How difficult could Jim’s stay be?
Or care for Class Four’s favourite, that
soon managed somehow to get free
and oviposit in our flat?
Then, following her little break
postnatally did not let on
just when and where her kids would make
appearances when she had gone.
So, once back inside the school’s
environment, upon our walls
came forth the nymphs from her ovules,
eight little Jims out on their crawls.
