Sunday, 25 June 2017


            The Spider worked
            Through the dark of night
            Holding a ball of silken yarn
            To weave a house of her dreams

           Splendid it was indeed when finished
           Meticulously planned,
           And diligently done
           Like a flawless piece of art 

           There she sat  beside it 
           With an air of pride and content
           As if alluring everyone to visit
            Her newly created artwork .

           And surely, the spider would have won
           Huge accolade for her unique talent
           As the Master artist among her tribe
          To be envied by any craftperson.

            If only she hadn't  cunningly abused
            Her skill to hide her wicked  intents --
               Of seducing innocent visitors   
                To fall unawares into the jaws of death!  
           If ever you feel unwittingly  drawn
           Towards a spot of unusual  charm
           Make sure it's fair as it appears to be
             And not a spider's  plan .



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