Was A Fly

by K.W.Ferguson - Not entered


K.W.Ferguson
39 Charlbrook Ave
Barrie ON CANADA
L4M 2Y6
(705)-739-8801
e-mail:golding@bconnex.net

" Was A Fly "

Was a fly on my sill.
I watched as he writhed.
How sinister, wicked and wretched.
How sly.
To brood from my bureau with circumspect eye;
Sleepless spy and a not so spry fly.
He wiggled...I winced...and could no more resist.
In this malady, mostly morose, I'd assist.
Oh, save him ?
You might, but the pane's painted tight, so
I eulogized, solemn, last rites.
I poked him with pencil.
I pushed and I prodded.
I lanced off his legs as the sun slowly nodded.
The fiend and the foe in fastidious fight;
To the death draped in numinous night.
Without recourse for danger, the battle did rage,
When fly, less appendages, winged for my face.
I lunged...pirouetted...
On guard, fly !... Touche !
Then, in silence... beheaded... he lay.
I clamoured, exhausted. 
Spent from the brawl.
To my bed, a Napoleon in rags, I did crawl.
Feeble and weak from the evening's foray;
My sword by my side 
( just in case ).
I drifted in dreams of the book I would write.
Describing my plunderous, perilous plight;
A buzzword or two for post~mortem delight,
...For the fly who flew into the light.




Reason for writing:

    I Hate flies that bug me when I'm writing(untill now)    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1996-04-16 19:32:46
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:38:46
Poem ID: 44843

You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.

View more poems by K.W.Ferguson.