Insects
Insects in summer are a pest
They don't give this poor soul a rest
Wasps and flies come by the score
Swarming through the open door
I try to keep them all at bay
I'm forever whacking 'em night and day
But at my age things tire me out
I ain't the strength to give a clout
To creepy crawlies of the air
All I do is stand and swear
With rolled up paper at the ready
But eyes and aim are not so steady
As they were in days gone by
I've not the skill and not the eye
To kill these bastard's getting tough
I've just spent ten minutes swatting fluff.
Poetry by Toonist
Read 446 times
Written on 2009-11-26 at 11:34
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Stan Cooper |
