Sunday, December 2, 2007

A Moments Peace

Buzz past an ear
serenity pierced
as if by a spear

It is all so clear
the theft of peace
and all my cheer

One tiny fly
who lights on my nose
all I want is it to die

Angry I became
trying to be calm but,
desired only to kill and to maim

To find my prey
I raised my eyes
and saw not too far away

Dangling in the air
undulating down;
without even a care

Celebratory decorations
from the ceiling flowed
most wonderful of man’s inventions.

Flypaper it is dubbed
hovering, waiting, silently
curly lips to suck the flying grub

Soon it lands and I know
I will be graced with quiet
and again peace will flow.

It tries to escape
from the deadly grip but,
is suck to that sticky tape

Squirm as it may
it will never survive
not again for any other day.

My peace restored
I sit with a smile
contending now with being bored

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