Spider, Spider
There is an impertinent orb weaver spider that insists on building its web at our front door. That alone would not be so bad, but the anchoring strands cross the walkway to the bushes on the other side. Unless one is very careful and remembers that the web may be present, it is likely to be draped across one’s torso in full Halloween style. In the daytime the web is nearly invisible. At night, when the errant arachnid makes its appearance at the center of the web, unless the light is on there is little hope of spotting the devious insect-snaring device in time to avoid being covered in silky sinews. It is often unpleasant and those who know me know I prefer pleasant.
Here is a mugshot of the offending beast from our local Most Unwanted List.
To further voice my disdain for said creature, I’ve written this marvelous poem. Okay, perhaps “marvelous” is a bit of a stretch…
Spider, Spider
Spider, spider, glowing bright
In the porch light late at night;
What immoral kind of guy
Would weave a web to clog my eye?
Why not in the distance deep
So under I’ll not need to creep?
Or maybe just a little higher,
Say, on the local steeple spire?
