Feeling waspish

A wasp fell in 

my beer. 

Well, I suppose

we can share. 

But then I 

thought about

the wasp's liver. 

And I thought,

l'd be so lucky

to go swimming 

in beer. 

I mean 'to go!'

Know what I mean?

And then I thought:

swimming in beer

is OK if you

can choose to 

climb out. 

Otherwise it's

a kind of suicide

(or insecticide). 

So I made

my fork into a raft

and the wasp

hopped onto the shaft. 

He dripped for a bit. 

l say 'he' because

I'm now fond

Of this drunken wasp. 

His plight is my plight:

We're really

Starting to bond. 

So we tried our wings

and prepared for flight. 

Oops here we go,

a bit wobbly but

still the number one

when it comes 

to that inefable

lightness of stinging.