Ruby The ConFuzzled & The Fly

Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered weak and weary,
Over CC hair that crashed my game
(most of which all look the same!)
Suddenly there came a tapping on my window pane
‘’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘what a bore!
Only this, and nothing more.’

Who could it be tapping so discreetly?
Could it be Poida or Sunnisweety?
What business to share – whether alone or as a pair?
‘Anon – lollies to serve, and tea to pore!’
Only this, and nothing more.

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
Passed me swooped a fly – habitus trashbinus.
Not the least ‘G’day!’ made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady,
perched upon my monitor.
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this black speck beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
‘Winged intruder that hath caught my eye
Ghastly grubby and hairy fly –
Tell me what thy lordly name is!’
Quoth the Fly – Bzzzz!

Much I marvelled this insect to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was cursed with such a fly upon her monitor.
To give it title, I undertook the job – t’was Christened
With such name as ‘Bob.’

For days on end, that Bob did tease
With the irritation of a thousand fleas
‘This black fly be a gadfly’ I mused.
For when I needed silence – Bob would dis’
With that infernal sound – Bzzzz!

Finally, in a state of jactitation
I sought a final confrontation
With an irritant beguiling its stature small.
To my boudoir I returned – closing the door
And with a request of departure to implore
I made to address this pestilence of Bob

‘Your ignoble works, your fiendish plan!
Sent your fellows to their deaths in my fan.
And now without explain, you are driving me insane!
Speak up – and speak now! – what thy purpose is!’
Quoth the Fly – Bzzzz!

And now – black pestilence! – you seek & spoil my sustenance!
I cannot take of food – nay – or even water
Whence you send your brethren to the slaughter!
For a Fly is a Fly – and not a Swim!
This senseless spoiling, I doth quiz!
Quoth the Fly – Bzzzz!

‘Thou filthy fiend – thou teasing twat!
Depart now! Else I squash thee flat!
Whether by slipper, or even kipper
No more put me into a tizz!’
Quoth the Fly – Bzzzz!

And the fly, it doth flit, swoop and soar
When it takes leave from my monitor;
And his eyes to the front, back and sides of its head,
Prevent me from squashing Bob dead;
And all Simmers from the Archivist to The Isz
Say that I am condemned forever to this, Bzzzz!