Wings flapping—fanning the air

Their annoyance makes you wish they weren't there

Zigzagging around your hot golden fries

You swipe them—and shoo them—and bid them good-bye

While biting a burger your vacant hand waves

Protecting your food from the hovering knaves

You cannot look around at your fine company

Less Frisky Fly lands on your straw—so you see

In your mind Frisky flies and enters the hole

Of the straw soon as you start to laugh and cajole

Once your hand grabs chilled cup for a refreshing gulp

Fly would be in your tube drinking its fill of pulp

Alas! Its fun ends as your horror begins

You spurt out your milkshake at one of your friends

The nasty fly splashes onto your bud's face

Disgusted you puke gnus all over the place

One green one brown and one purple with haste

Start running before lonesome riders make chase

Your friend jumps up screaming

You're sure you're not dreaming

All 'cause pesky flies like to fly in your space

May 4, 2011 © R. Renée Bembry MSAP