W. M. D. Poem by John T Shillito

No scientist can figure out just how to turn it on
it leaves no operating marks, no trace when it has gone
they have looked for it with x-rays, the surgeon had to try
they know its there, know it works, but they can't figure why

I'm always very careful, only use it when I must
don't want to overdo it, I don't want to lose your trust
though I like to test it sometimes, I love to see it work
you seem to like it when I do, after all, it doesn't hurt

that disaster in the kitchen, its my fault, I must confess
you're waving both your arms about, I've made a real mess
There's not a lot that I can do, down here on the floor
I rub your legs, you pick me up, now I can go to war

I engage my secret weapon, just very faintly at the start
I don't hurry, wait a moment, 'till it penetrates your heart
then gently stretch out on your lap, I know you like me there
slowly increase the power, where your skin is touching fur

thoughtlessly, you gently run your fingers down my back
so I push back against them, we seem to be on track
bring the frequency up slowly, that's as high as it will go
your blood pressure is dropping, your pulse is now quite slow

I can see you smile a little, as you slip into a trance
against the secret power of purr, you never had a chance
You are happy and relaxed, the annoyance melts away
my Weapon of Magical Distraction once more saves the day