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Arachnid
A little spider took up a corner in my room
I looked him over with awe then with gloom
Little friend, how will you survive without food?
Without a mate or something to sate your hunger
A terrible tangled web he did weave
I gave him a fly from my kitchen window
It was destined to die for the winter
He was not ready for a meal from a sinner like me
We eye balled each other for weeks
He found little critters to eat
With my power mag I found it sad
To see he survived on an ort
The following spring he threw me a curve
He was a she and with egg sack gave birth
What a terrible tangled web she did weave.
poem
by
John Shea
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