The Parasitical Wasp

Last night I ran into a Moth,
I gave it such a smack.
It traced, poor thing, a somersault
To crash land on its back,
Then I saw to my surprise,
Close clinging to its wing,
A parasitic wasp, no less,
Poised in readiness to sting.



I stooped down low to gently part
The host from parasite,
And with a twig I swished that wasp
To dent its appetite.
The creatures parted company,
The moth it calmly rose,
The wasp itself was not impressed
And stung me on the nose.