O small spider!
I am sorry:
Intellectually I know
You pose no threat
To me or to any of
The vulnerable small ones in my care.
You should be adored
For your pest-controlling properties,
As we adore the admittedly-cuter ladybug.
But.
When you dangle down
On a long string,
Right in front of my face
As I am making breakfast,
Frankly you are lucky to get out of this situation
Unsmashed.
Really, tossed outside intact,
In a hastily-grabbed napkin,
Is an exceedingly lucky fate,
You eight-legged horror.
I am not normally a poetry person. But this is high art.
This is brilliant. I wish I had been able to muster such creativity when I realized there was a spider crawling on the wall/ceiling above my head in the shower the other day. Alas, all I could manage to do was freak out and squeal in terror, causing the dog to come running into the bathroom. Not that he saved me from the scary spider. Slacker.
I was moved to tears
(of laughter.)
You are nicer than me. In my house that spider would have been mooshed.
Amazing, LOL.
I cringe and scream and freeze up when I’m near a spider. UGGGHHH.
The worst is any bugs that I find in my classroom, when I’m the only adult and I *must* protect the wee children!
As I’m always telling the boys “spiders are our friends. They eat mosquitoes.”
I love you and your Spider Poem.
Hahahahahahahahahahaha!
“Eight-legged horror” is a NICE description of a spider. I would TOTALLY have smashed that sucker. Not only did you RESCUE it, but you WROTE A POEM for it. You are a much more humane person than I am.
OH, THIS IS AWESOME.
You are a saint.
A spider dangled down in front of me the other day, too!
Except I was a passenger in a vehicle my husband was driving and hey, did you know that screaming and pointing at something the driver cannot see very well can be, oh, DISTRACTING and somewhat dangerous? Helpful tip!
Also, I say you are a saint because that spider met his/her end crushed between two fingers. Not my fingers, mind you. I think I was still too busy hollering, but really who can say.
This poem is epic. And would have been handy in my house this weekend where an eight-legged horror was found in the toilet. That’s right, in the toilet, completely submergegd. One would assume this spider was dead…it was not! Screaming and OCD checking of any other bathroom used for the rest of the weekend ensued.
Ha! Very Walt Whitman-esque. Although I don’t think he ever had any poems containing the brilliant line “unsmashed.”
That last line made me snort. We currently have a Brown Widow residing in a Rubbermaid bin outside our shed and even though he has many chemicals with which to do away with the damn thing, Brian instead just goes out to visit it every day. I want to take matters into my own hands, but I’m a chickenshit.
My philosophy is that if they are on the wall or ceiling (out of my reach oddly) and are not moving and generally not bothering me, they get to live. And I tell them as much so that they can make their choice. Then! I don’t feel as bad when they come down and I smoosh them. Yes, I have issues.
“8-legged horror” = BRILLIANT. I LOVE THIS POEM (yes, I am shouting to the rooftops how much I adore it!)
I LOVE random poetry! This is so cute and funny.
Love. Love. Love….you, not the spider. I don’t love the spider. (:-D
You were able to grab it ALIVE and toss it outside?! We would be the ones heading outside if this were in my house!
i leave the spiders for my cats to “play with” ;-)
I’m a spider saver, but I also confess to detesting them. I have had dreams about spiders dangling from my ceiling, much like you described. Nightmares, actually.
There’s a rule in my house, and all spiders are on notice.
Spiders: You are welcome in my home, so long as you stay above my reach, and off of surfaces that I sit/eat/wash/sleep on. Should you be found in violation, your life may be forfeit, particularly if you are large and scary, or look as though you may jump.
I always tell them, “look, man, you knew the rules…”
Possibly the most fantastic poem ever.