A fortnight ago,
She buzzed in my ear,
I thought it intentional
I thought it her way of sounding her horn,
Announcing she was ready to battle me
All night her stings kept me awake,
My bed our battlefield

The following morning I consulted she who holds the world's knowledge:

Me: Why does she make me her foe, why  does she on a daily basis bring me woe?

Madame Google: Harm to you she means not to bring, your blood she finds vital for reproducing her offspring.

Hence, I summoned her for a meeting,
suggested we reach an understanding
I told her to your heart's content my blood you can drink ,
but in that small little pink room dare you not fly your wings

Today as I write...
In her cradle my princess sleeps, on her little face tiny spots of red
And on the table lies an empty spray can of raid...