The House Fly.

In a recent post I mentioned the house fly that took up residence with me last summer. No sooner had I written that than this year’s visitor arrived. So I wrote a little ditty.

I have a little house fly

Who follows me around.

He really doesn’t pester me

And never makes a sound.

Except for buzzing wings, that is,

We take that one as read.

Apart from that I only hear

His thoughts inside my head.

‘I’m such a lucky house fly,’

He says. ‘This pad’s a find.

I’m sitting here on Jeffrey’s wall

And Jeffrey doesn’t mind!’

‘Of course I don’t,’ I tell him back,

‘We’re just two kindred souls.

We’ve got our different roads to walk

And slightly different goals.

But otherwise we’re just the same,

Mere fragments manifest

As flesh and blood and earthly needs

That put us to the test.

So ‘welcome’ little house fly,

Do come in from the cold.

And stay as long as you desire

Or ’til we both grow old.

So, am I delightfully dotty or disarmingly sane? I know which one I’m going for.