An ode to 'the creeps' may they never fade,
from my garden they flourish
with web-traps well laid.
My fear gives me bumps
a disease of the mind,
but if they ensnare me,
will I turn one of their kind...
Your beauty I see not,
as I'm fleeing away
there is nothing about you
that bids me to stay.
Oh, widow of darkness
will you bite off my head,
your mating rite binds you,
I'm so glad he's dead.
But what is this I see
hanging orbs all around
ghostly visuals of infants
soon cov'ring the ground.
My fear is engourged
by the 'willies' I feel
will my night ever end,
will I be your next meal.
A friend to the rescue
with biting tongue to your fate
Jack Frost you're my hero
en'tring through ol' winter's gate.
Though long times passing
till we will meet again
I in my garden
and your seed I'll call friend.
That time again Shadow Shot Sunday...tis the season of the creeps and I would like to dedicate this to the creature that shared my home all summer. Attached to my porch, web filled with bugs of all sorts, I chronicled her life till her last dying moments, hanging limp from her web she so laboriously tended. She truly gave me the 'willies' every time I gazed on her, but it's sort of a sad tale of woe, as the summer ends, so too her life, as she hangs at the end of her cycle...alone...dying...and thanks Willow for the 'willies'...HA...
