A Waspy Thing

I stepped on a wasp
In my own bedroom door
It stung my right foot – made me daft
Because then, for good measure,
And without meaning to
I stomped it again with my left

Now arches, I’m told
Should not arch out
But arch up with a graceful high peak
But my feet weren’t so grand
They arched out all the same
The pain really making me weak

Now my shoes wouldn’t fit
And I was crying all right
Looks like we’d not make it to church
So we iced both my feet
Carried me down the stairs
On the living room sofa to perch

A hearty thing is a wasp
To be able to sting
Not one foot, but both feet – that’s two
But he’ll not sting again
Those two were his last
For the last stomp quite turned him to goo.