
Credit: http://www.bloodsprayer.com
AND NOW – for something completely different! In case you have the mistaken impression that I write only serious poems.
Where DID they come from,
this invasion of fat flies
flitting and darting from window
to sash? Our normally quiet
evening abuzz with slap
and squish as my daughter
grim glint growing in her
swung and struck, savoring instinct
and skill of this new-found sport
to kill [SWAT!]
one [SWAT!]
after another [SWAT!]
We charged and swatted, quite besotted
with the challenge to chase and destroy
each buzzing fly
frantically lunging
against our ceaseless
assault upon battery;
bodies dropped
in drabs, then droves
from window, table, doorjamb, wall
a pile of corpus delecti mounting
with every hit.
But WHERE did they come from?
That day – and that one only –
placid peace lost to raging revolt
a change so alarming
for the next many days
it was all the buzz.
swb
If only my batting average were good enough to drop the mosquitoes in Ghana by drabs, let alone droves 😉
Perhaps a different skill/technique is called for!?
I absolutely LOVE this, Sarah!
So much fantastic alliteration and internal rhyme here. Love this, especially:
“Our normally quiet
evening abuzz with slap
and squish”
And:
“charged and swatted, quite besotted”
So great. Thanks for the smile. And thank you for your visit to my blog today! 🙂
Thanks, De. Sometimes it’s fun to just let ‘er rip! Your comment has made my day. And you are most welcome.