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I swung with a vengeance but missed that damned fly
The breeze I’d created caused him to pass by
My electric racquet in underarm mode
Still failed to make that bluebottle explode

It filled me with hate as it buzzed round my plate
I swung and I swung and became more irate 
That foul little demon was soon to be dead
As soon as it took itself off of my head

Now, I’m not a coward in anyone’s book
But I’m in no hurry to smell my brain cook
I angled my zapper to strike as it rose
And almost set fire to the tip of my nose

It flitted at speed like a Pac-Man on heat
But I am a human… I will not be beat
My dinner was cooling and it wasn’t salad
I’ll murder that fly and then write me a ballad

Overarm, underarm, back-hand and flip
My energised racquet was firm in my grip
At one point it landed on chandelier-high
And I had to wave that light fitting goodbye

My sausage was cold (can we please keep this clean)
And I had become a fly killing machine
A back somersault and a cartwheel or two
My electric racquet had flashed neon blue

Poor little Tiddles, she trusted me so
Her recuperation has some way to go
But I’ll give her cuddles and snuggles and then
I dearly regret that I zapped her again 

Twas kinda Dick Whittington, but in reverse
Tiddles left home and I don’t know what’s worse
My poor little kitten is out on her own 
But that demon-fly is at rest on my phone

How great the temptation to say what the hell
And batter that fly and my iPhone as well
But then it took off and it sped through the air
I swung and I swiped and set fire to my hair

Okay I confess; just a few hairs got singed
But I don’t have many and that’s why I whinged
In anger I swiped at the sound of its hums
Which came close to giving me two deep fried plums

How bloody long can a bluebottle live
My electric racquet and I cannot give 
Yet more gymnastics to vanquish our foe
As I shoot some volts through my right hand big toe

I whirled like a dervish and now on a mission
I swung like a thing that had infra red vision
But, boy, did I cheer at the quiet little ‘phut!’
As that fly took a window to find it was shut

                               ***

But now I feel guilty for I’ve done okay
Though I don’t know who saw me swinging away
I owe my new job to that small airborne menace
My local school wants me to teach the kids tennis
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