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by Betty Castleberry
1/31/2009 / Poetry
The summer night was still and damp
Perfect for relaxing
On the porch or in the yard
All other moves were taxing
Two winged critters flittered 'round
One said to her sidekick
"Take my dare and follow me
I'll show you what we'll pick."
"No one will know that I'm about
But you can't do the same
I can feast and fly away
Its really all a game."
"Our victim will not feel my sting
But he'll be aware of yours
For I can bite him stealthily
I'll nail his tasty pores."
A hairy arm their landing field
The human unaware
That he would soon become a feast
Of skeeters on a dare
The first bite was a gentle zap
Her presence was unknown
The stage was set for number two
The next gal picked her zone
She zoomed in on juicy flesh
Phlebotomy in motion
When smack of hand came crashing down
And stopped her spunky notion
With dying breath she spoke aloud
"My pride got in the way
My repast was a deadly one
I'm allergic to type A."
Copyright 2006 Betty Castleberry
~The author is a retired-early-by-choice RN who lives in Texas with her husband and three parrots. She has a daughter, step daughter, and five grandchildren. She is a published author, and loves to write for the Lord. Email her @
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