Irritation

Oh my, this day for her started very mean;

She began work with great friendly smiles and keen;

Low and behold, some fiend stuck her with a pin;

This brutal assault can only be a sin.

Battered so unjustly in cyber-valley,

These space claws left her half-dead, the finale;

To my mind this smells like some conspiracy;

All ponder over such blatant lunacy.

She should never think to battle a bobcat;

But think how an alley cat likes a fur mat;

In her mind she hears the noise of cats and dogs

For night has come, so too are the whistling frogs

Her voodoo gods should cast upon them her spell;

For pains she endured around the water well.

 ©Paterika Hengreaves

 (June 2003)