by Bob Chaney

Created on: February 26, 2009

THE FLY AND I.....

Tis the season flies abound
Buzzing by, and flying round
This one, has been on my nerves
He flys at my face
And dive bombs my ears
He'd probably fly right up my nose
If my sinuses were clear
So, I've tracked him for an hour
Watched his every move
I've got his pattern down
It's finally time to strike
No motion betrays my intent
As I grasp my weapon gently
And wait...
He circles, then spirals
Slowly down to land so lightly
On my hand...
How could he know?
Which hand holds the swatter

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