Song of Afternoon

The air is thick with Bitey-Bastards,

   Bitey-Bastards throng the air.

I riled them with a Mighty-Parsnip,

   “Come fly towards me, if you dare!”

The Bitey-Bastards buzzing madly,

   Buzzing madly through my space.

I’d swipe at twenty dozen gladly,

   I dare you – fly towards my face.

One Bitey-Bastard buzzed a-facewards,

  Buzzed a-facewards, Bastard bit!

And angry, like a de-fuzzed race-horse,

  I Mighty-Parsnip-walloped it!