Runner-Ups:
1. Field of Screams
Written by: Richard from New Mexico
I hate moles
who dig holes
beneath the goals
making soccer's play
a field of screams
2. Just a Pawn
Written by: Cindy from Arkansas
My mountains are Mole Hills
they grow day by day....
the sneaky ones taunt me
they won't go away.
I've tried every solution
short of dynamite
Oh help me, please help me
to win this fight!
I fear I am losing
much more than my lawn
the Mole is the King
and I am the pawn.
I know I have lost
It will never improve....
"For Sale By Owner"
I'll just have to move!
3. A New Kid in Town
Written by: Debi from Mississippi
Just moved in my new house other day
Said nothing was ever gonna run me away
Saw snakes and coons at my back door
But with a hoe and pellet gun, they are no more.
Tilled my lawn up nice and neat
Laid fresh sod-my home's complete
Fertilized and mowed it up real neat
Proud as heck to complete my feat.
Things went good the first few days
But then the rest seems like a haze
I got so mad that I saw red
All I wanted was to see them dead!
No, I'm not talkin’ about neighbors here
Though some are bad, I find most dear
It's that little creature down in a hole
That ‘lil brown varmint they call a mole.
I woke up early that sunny morn
Looked across the lawn I had adorn
Holes and trails from end to end
A war Zone look I can't defend.
I tried to fight with all my means
Nothing frightened these crazy furry things
Someone said there's a new kid in town
Takes these creatures and knocks them down.
Dig up my flowers-plow through my sod
Gotta stop that mole-like it or not
Friend said, "Sweeney’s can stop that mole,
Just pour those pellets into that hole.”
Went to Lowe's to buy me some
And I bought me plenty to feed that bum
Now my lawn's been leveled and my flowers bloom
Sweeney’s saved my home-not a minute too soon.
4. The State of Louisiana
Written by: Sid from Louisiana (Obviously)
Down here in the great state of Louisiana, we have all kinds of critters and varmints; some will bite you, others will sting you, and others will just destroy your home or yard. Well my father "Mr. Green Thumb" takes great pride in the appearance of his yard...actually won neighborhood yard of the year several times straight (a big deal down here); however this year, he has had a big problem...MOLES...and I mean droves of 'em...as big as rats it seems; tunneling through the yard everywhere you look. Now my dad has tried about everything; he put out a dozen or so traps that is meant to skewer them, put out moth balls and as a final desperate measure...got a cat (unfortunately the cat seems to be allergic to the outdoors). He finally asked me if I knew of a way to get rid of the varmints...being a redneck I said Dynamite would work...he decided to nix that idea. Anyway we need help down here to get rid of these dang varmints...PLEASE HELP...and send some dynamite also. (I need to go fishing).
5. Mole-Station
Written by: Hazel from Florida
There once was a mole,
Who dug a small hole
Close by our newly laid lawn.
His mound became two
With a passage way through,
And had grown to six by morn.
The tunnels increased
As his work never ceased,
Criss-crossing the lawn at a pace.
The mounds multiplied.
I was fit to be tied,
But couldn’t halt that critter’s race.
Despite nightly vigils,
And early morn rituals
In trying to capture this raptor.
My attempts dismally failed,
And I’m sure they regaled
This mole with the heartiest laughter!
I was getting distressed.
Neighbor cats we impressed
To help in this neighborhood plan.
The yard a disaster,
He worked even faster
As only a mole in a hole can.
Chewing gum did no good
Surely mothballs would
Or flushing holes out would work wonders.
Peanut bait by the pound
Found its way in the ground,
But all these just increased our blunders.
One day I was sitting
On the back lawn a knitting
When on the yarn I felt a strong tug!
Then with needle I aimed
Mole was mortally maimed
And fell down in the grave he had just dug!
My story’s absurd?
You don’t believe a word?
To discover the truth’s up to you.
One thing is for sure.
Mole is no more,
And my lawn is as good as new.
6. Flood 'Em
Written by: Daphne from Oregon
Nancy ran into the house. "I planted flowers by the mailbox last year, but what's coming up isn't flowers, it's moles again. I am SICK of moles” Stomping around inside the house, opening closets and cupboards, slamming them shut, she finally got a reaction from Hiram.
“Flood ‘em.”
That’s all he said. He didn’t glance out the window. He didn’t even look up from his farm journal as he pulled another pickle from the jar.
Nancy jammed her hands onto her hips. She glared at Hiram. “Flood ‘em? That’s all you have to say? Flood ‘em?”
Hiram elaborated with a loud, juicy crunch. He turned the page.
Nancy hauled the longest hose out of the barn, rammed it down the mole hole, then turned the water spigot on full blast.
That was Saturday.
Sunday afternoon, Hiram walked out behind the barn. His tidy rows of cucumber sprouts had been excavated. Exposed roots lay curled, shriveled like toes in the morgue.
Handing him the hose, Nancy whispered, “Flood ‘em.
7. Don't say that about moles!
Written by: Tom from (location witheld for his safety)
I hate moles because.. they look like my mother-in-law.
8. A Mole's Warning to His Beloved
Written by: Angela from Michigan
(Set to the tune "Down in the Valley")
Down in our tunnels, our tunnels so low
Went my poor mother, she just didn’t know
She didn’t know love, she didn’t know
She popped her head out, I heard the blow
Humans love killing us, we love to chew
Moles up in heaven, know I’ve warned you
If you don’t believe me, believe what you please
Don’t trust those humans, don’t eat their treats
Don’t eat their treats love, don’t eat their treats
They have been poisoned, they want you deceased
Humans love killing us, we love to chew
Moles up in heaven, know I’ve warned you
Dig many tunnels, run many laps
Just keep them guessing, watch out for traps
Watch out for traps love, watch out for traps
They will cause ugly, deadly mishaps
Humans love killing us, we love to chew
Moles up in heaven, know I’ve warned you
Why do they hate us, why do they kill?
We must be covert, we must use skill
We must use skill love, we must use skill
Don’t let them see you, don’t let them kill
Humans love killing us, we love to chew
Moles up in heaven, know I’ve warned you.
9. Gardening Dance
Written by: Trina from Oklahoma
It was spring of 2006, the second spring in our new house. This was only my third year of serious gardening. My husband had built several raised beds for me to plant my flowers. Everything was starting to bloom and fill in nicely. Monet could not have painter much lovelier a picture. It looked like a magazine photo exemplifying results that seem to only appear in magazines, not a flaw in the yard.
Then one day, as I was delicately unraveling the water hose and taking it to the north side of the house to water the elephant ears, I realized that the ground beneath me had moved. Now, earthquakes are not unheard of in central Oklahoma, but they are not that common, and usually not very strong. I stepped back only to feel the earth again move under my feet. I looked up to the sky and asked, "God, are you trying to get my attention? If so, you have it. " There was silence. No Divine intervention today I guessed. I looked down and noticed that there were streams of upheaved soil and grass. I dropped my water hose and ran to tell my husband that we apparently had purchased a house built over a sink hole. My husband looked at me peculiarly. I grabbed him by the arm, shouting "come look", and led him to the area where I saw the trenches starting. "See", I told him. "The ground is starting to split open right here. If it gets as bad as some I have seen, our entire living room will end up being split level. What do we do?"
After he finished laughing at me, for what seemed like a good five minutes, he explained that the trenches were probably from moles. I reminded him that I had seen Caddy Shack. He stopped me before I got out any plastic explosives and told me to tamp all their tracks, and they would probably leave out of annoyance. He said that his grandmother had done that once and it worked.
So I added stomping and tamping to my daily garden ritual, along with a little prayer. I figured that it couldn't hurt, and I needed all the help I could get. So, every day I would water, prune, dead head, weed, and stomp and tamp. I had to watch and not tamp or stomp too much. After all, I did not want to kill too much of my manicured grass. In about two weeks, I noticed that my "Gardening dance" was getting shorter. There were fewer and fewer trails to tamp. Another week or so, and voila, no more mole trails. It had worked. I don't know for sure, but I swear I saw my next door neighbor doing a similar dance a week after I stopped. Now I know that this story is supposed to be about why I hate moles, but that particular growing season did not cause hate to form. My yard looked great; I worked outside enough to lose fifteen pounds, and had superbly developed thigh and calf muscles that year. For me, I'd have to say that I have a true love-hate relationship with moles.
10. Killer Ron
Written by: Terry from Minnesota
So, here I am, an innocent city girl living with my husband in a darling home on a small city lot. With the last child married off, we decide to move to the 'burbs on almost 3 acres of land. Beautiful setting, wonderful wildlife (deer, turkeys, coyotes, etc…).
Summer one is spent getting the neglected lawn in shape. Summer two is spent beating back the woods that are encroaching on the newly beautified lawn. Summer three consists of painting and planting flowers.
Summer four the battle begins. I've never seen a mole. However, my vision includes a rat looking like creature with tiny eyes that require very large eyeglasses. Apparently I have a very vivid imagination or I've watched too many cartoons. Either way, I have nothing against moles. My husband on the other hand, has become "Ron the Magnificent" (his words) or as I like to call him "Killer Ron".
So, summer four included consulting with a myriad of experts for possible solutions. Ron determined that electrocution was the only way to go. He rigged up some kind of electrified line that was fished into the mole hole and plugged into an outlet (or some such nonsense). My fear for Ron's safety began to increase. By autumn the moles were worse than ever. It was a dismal year.
Year five again included consultations with experts. Not trusting them of course, Ron ordered a guillotine like affair off the internet. This was the most dreadful looking miniature device this side of the Mississippi. Ron was elated!! Surely this was the answer. He installed several of these guillotines around the yard at the mouth of the mole holes. My greatest fear was that the grandchildren would come across a beheaded creature laying in the yard, or worse yet, just the head or just the body. Either way, I wasn't happy. Again, by autumn the moles were worse than ever and not one of the guillotines had been snapped.
By now Ron is a crazy person with little to no common sense remaining. The yard is beginning to look pretty dismal. Each time Ron mows the lawn the wheels of the lawnmower get stuck in this hole or that trench. Truly, my sweet husband has turned into a screaming, cussing crazy person! Although I have nothing against moles, I have much against the little varmints now that Ron thinks of nothing but killing them.
Another summer is upon us and I do believe the moles are winning once again. After breakfast this morning Ron said to me "I feel sorry for the moles today!" Apparently Ron has another method for killing the little devils. I watched him walk around the yard with much enthusiasm as he dropped some kind of substance (perhaps one of your products?) at the address of each mole hole he has identified. There are hundreds of holes. I'm thinking of putting the house on the market and moving back to the city. Maybe I'll let Killer Ron come with me.
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