
When my friend Dawn sent me a video of this beautiful web and told me maybe I could write a blog, I am sure this is not what she was thinking about. However, this little poem just came to me today and I had to capture it.
Across the wall above it skims
Propelled by tiny hairy limbs
No sound is made on its arrival
This might increase chance of survival
For there are some who quake with fear
To even think one may be near
Oh, just the thought of that fuzzy body
Even though it’s short and squatty
Will fill a person up with dread
As visions of horror go round’ in their head
Beady eyes peer from the web that it hangs
Waiting to chomp with it’s venomous fangs
Wrapping it’s dinner in gray silken ribbon
Backing up into the corner it’s hidden
But if in the night something skitters about
You’ll have visions of spiders of that there’s no doubt.


“Up, up”, cried the curly blonde headed toddler as I stirred the big simmering pot of lima beans. The scent of supper hung in the air, tempting me to perform yet another taste test. My palate satisfied, I turned to put away the remains of the ham I had used to season my savory soup.






