The Spider

The day before yesterday I watched a barn spider in my window catch a fly, wrap him up, and crawl away into the window eave somewhere to hide him.  It was rather gruesome and creepy, but it reminded me of a poem that I wrote when I was twelve years old, to send to a school newspaper, hoping that it would be published.  It wasn't chosen to be published, and I lost the poem since then.  However, I still remember the first stanza that I wrote, and the last two lines, but not the middle section.   But watching this big barn spider catch the fly the other day inspired me to fill in the missing sections of my poem again.  I'm still not completely satisfied with it... but it's basically all there:


The Spider


Observe the careful pains she takes
And whist, how patiently she waits

For an unsuspecting passer-by

Into her tangled web to fly

And agitate the flimsy threads

O'er which the careful spider treads.

Now see him fly without a care,

And dive, blissfully unaware

Of death, cold-reaching through the air,

On cords invisible and fair -

The trap she's laid with utmost care,

To catch poor souls who happen there. 

With one fell swoop, the fellow's caught -

His joyous flight in mid-air stopped,

A care-free life turned anguish-fraught

But moments more, and t'will be naught. 

He beats his wings with frenzied hum,

And struggling, beckons her to come.

She runs - and grabs him, stabs him through, 

Then wraps him 'round with thread and glue,

And carries him away to hide

Somewhere in shadows to the side--

Then, when she gets the urge to munch,

She'll be obliged to make him lunch.