Bat

Bat

Bat

With torrents of abusing
which would later feed the musing,
D.H. Lawrence tried to extricate the bat.

A vendetta and a spat,
he would continue to attack it
until batteries exhausted,
all out of flutter
the brown flitter slumped and sat.

Then, smothered up in jacket
the beast was bundled to the window
and cast out into daylight:
very bright and oh so frightful,
even in the loveliness of Florence.

Later having mated,
increasing the Italian battalion
might the released creature
forewarn a small unseeing one:
“You steer WELL CLEAR of that human being’s flat,
do you hear me?!”