Kind Lady
Tiny screams come wafting up and then just drift away,
As she scours down her bathroom, on a busy cleaning day.
Small voices in a panic; she hears them yell and screech,
While scrubbing down the place they live with smelly chlorine bleach.
She bends an ear to listen close, then hears a teensy voice.
“Mercy mercy, show us please. We know you have a choice.”
She thinks of spidey in her bath only days before.
She’d coaxed him up the shower stall and gently to the floor.
A paper cup left standing near, to trap all errant bugs,
She often shooed them out the door with everything but hugs.
Spiders, moths and aphids; one time a little mouse,
All were free to live their lives, but not within her house.
Just yesterday the life she saved was but a lowly worm.
Traveling misbegotten trails; his doom was her concern.
And now these many little cries implore her to be kind.
To put away her chlorine bleach and give them all more time.
Their pleading falls on ears gone deaf and sadly each will learn;
She’d rather give a bug a break, than spare one filthy germ.
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