Member Poem

Years ago, my sister, Susan,
A little cactus plant, possessed.
And I recall an instance associated with it
Which I cannot keep suppressed.

'Twas growing in a little pot,
And sat near our kitchen sink.
You'd, no doubt, have a view of it
If you ever went to get a drink.

Anyway, it was one fine day, near supper time;
Mom was, busily, preparing our meal.
And I was standing near the cactus,
Kind of aloof, yet a bit genteel.

Susan was in the kitchen, too,
Not very far away,
When, very quietly, I gestured to her
To come my way, without delay.

For, I had something I wished to show her;
To that cactus of hers, it related.
Two flies were situated at its prickly top;
Had alit there, and conjugated!

Susan simply said something like, "Oh, my!"
And, Mom, being right there, too,
Saw, also, what those flies were doing,
And, with a wave of hands, those flies were through.

Yes, two flies fornicating on a cactus;
Might that, the title of this poem, be?
'Twas just a humorous little instance
That I felt just HAD to be set to poetry!