The Spider

This poem was written especially for our village annual Burn’s Supper celebration.

You tiny creepy crawly thing,

Hanging there from you bit of string

You’ll try and frighten me away,

But I tell you now it’s here I’ll stay

For I’m no longer scared of you,

Cause you belong flushed down the loo

I saw your cousin the other day,

Dangling there in the same old way

But I was brave as brave can be,

When I thought he would fall on me

I grabbed the brush and swept him down,

Then squashed his body against the ground

So you take heed my creepy friend,

You will not drive me round the bend

Don’t you move and don’t you scurry,

Or I will leave here in a hurry

Your legs and long and your body is small,

And I can’t see your eyes at all

I’m not sure and I am not clear,

Why you fill my bones with fear

It might just be that I don’t know

That when you move where will you go

If you fall then I must beg,

Don’t crawl up my knicker leg

Now off you go you scary thing

Before you fall from you bit of string

Don’t try and scare me as you just might,

or you will end up down the loo tonight

Your moving now and I can’t hack it;

I’m going to get the brush and whack it

You’ve disappeared you little might,

Now I will get no sleep tonight!

©Jeanie – Burns Night 30^th January 2010

Author

Jeanie McBain

Hello,

I am a retired freelance journalist who has a passion for writing. I am married with three grown up children and three wonderful grandchildren.

I am now enjoying life as a senior citizen.

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