Lady Bug

She folds black wings
Inside herself,
Her secret power
To flee.

So contained
And fearless,
She advances
Straight at me.

She wears a spotted
Carapace;
The spots are vaguely
Charming.

The rest is red,
And such a red
As ought to be
Alarming.

The spotted lady
Isn’t shy
Encountering
My hand,

Demurely prods it
With her foot,
Then stops to
Take her stand.

If I were
Her specie,
I think I might
Be moved.

Of entomology
And Love,
I’m dull
And unimproved,

But well before
This idyll fades,
She knows
I am not kind,

Withdraws her foot
And turns away
As if she were
Resigned.

Or so I thought
Till Madam Bug
Burst her
Carapace

Unfolding jet black
RUDENESS
And REJECTION!
In my face.