Oh come ye sparrows and ye swifts
And lift the curse upon this house
Relieve the nuisanced bottle blue
Support the dangling sticky tapes
And feast upon the myriad buzz
Of critters from manural heaps.
As never before in countless score
The micro demons flit around
To settle on our surfaces
And threaten summers easy whiles.
I don’t mind one or even two
But when in many lift my ire
A constant buzz or careless hum
From rottings somewhere thousands come.
The bluelight which was bought to zap
Has mostly found it’s foe in moths
And in the lemon scented traps
The carcasses of just a few.
The welcome heat of Cymru bathing
Fullmoon flavoured summers joy
Is threatened by the urges rising
Towards the thought of peace destroyed.
Days in passing, countless deaths
Of Calliphora Vomitum
I’m grateful for the knowledge knowing
None of them will bite my bum.
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