He struggled to read

He struggled to read

With the heat and flies,

Swatting them away didn't help

Tiny little black bugs

Hovering in front of his eyes

He was sure they were the same ones

Returning after each sweep

But perhaps they weren’t.

Was it their duty to ruin his day

Mosquitoes stole blood

Gnats bit, so they said

Little marks all around his ankles

His wife covered in swollen lumps

Red and angry

They couldn’t stay

Ants trawled the ground in their millions.

He had read that when added together

All the ants in the world

Amounted to twenty per cent

Of all human mass

It was true,

Insects ruled.

He waved, almost without thinking,

His arm as active as a dog’s tail

He remembered so many good things

About Crete

From the last time they were there

And thank goodness for that

He was more than thankful for memories

God knows what he would do without them

But he had forgotten the bugs

Almost as annoying as the midges and clegs

Around Loch Lomond.

Perhaps they could go to the Canaries again

There seemed to be fewer mozzies

And he just loved Papas Arrugados

With Mojo Rojo sauce

Salted potatoes with so much more.

Nothing stirred the memory

Like a smell

And just the thought of food

Elevated his hunger

“Let’s go out to eat my love.

They have bug killers down in the square

It will be more comfortable.”

“It’s better than being eaten alive

Up here on this balcony,

Even if the view is to die for.”

“Perhaps we can walk back over the sand”

“I’d love that. It’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, it is…you are.”

“And so are you.”

“Do you think we can have Chateaubriand?”

“Of course, we can.”