Poetry from the Creek: Mace for Midges

Not an afternoon you’ll remember with affection, the

midges sorely saw to that; they were giving, as only

they can - their love and commiseration - bit like an

overdose of rawly applied fan-club accolades which

abrade rather than trigger ego enhancements; what

we need’s effusive buzzing - not possessive caress

ending in rabid itching - or suggesting skin grafts to

go - but, OK, we’ll spray repellant, tho’ reluctantly

We don’t need reminding we’re the objects of your

dire passion - but just heed this - until today you’ve

only bothered me with your fey discrimination, why

are you indiscreetly plying my Lady who has never

complained before - she’s abandoned her Brazilian

Chair for a safer lounge seat where TV’s available

And a can of Mace for Midges is close at hand

Poetry from the Creek