BYE-BYE FLY

A fly flew through the kitchen window, I was frying, He was big, fat and very black, He nonchalantly settled on the drying rack, No doubt had followed the aroma of food, uninvited prying, With tea towel and fly swatter, was armed and eyeing. Flew closer to the gas burner, unafraid of dying, Both of us ready for deadly battle, He would certainly not live to tattle, There got you, but as hard as I was trying, He was edging nearer to the liver I had frying. Searching with his compound eyes, he found an aperitif filler, A small onion, his taste-buds now craving, My anger now increasingly scaling, Then with the prowess of a tactical serial killer, Lashed out with the tea towel, wiped out the critter.