Poetry – The Spider

The Spider

It is that time of year again. The large house spiders are on the move. The big males are off hunting females to mate.  They bounce across your carpet, veering and halting unpredictable.

They lurk in the recesses and under everything.

They are huge, dark and hairy. Their bristles are evil.

At night they emerge to climb walls and on to beds.

They appear in bath-tubs and showers.

They also loom even larger in my imagination!

I am an entomologist. I should know better. But childhood experiences combine with evolutionary instinct to tell me that these things are dangerous, evil and a malevolent force.

Nothing will persuade me otherwise.

We have a huge one in the house. My wife saw it scurry under the bath.

I know it’s there, somewhere.

The Spider

 Malevolently scurrying across the floor,

Scuttling to a standstill, assessing,

Watching with its many eyes,

Weighing up the scene.

Then darting into dark crevices

Impossible to squeeze into

To lurk and plan

Its evil re-emergence.

When darkness falls

It is there

Under the cushion

Under the pillow

Brushing the sleeping face

With its bristles

Legs and gnashing mandibles.

Delighting in its success.

No web

Or patient wait

For this one.

He is quick

And unpredictable,

Equipped with

Many legs

And a brain

That intends

To terrify.

There

When

You

Least

Expect.

Huge

Dark

Hairy

And

Fast.

No ordinary spider.

Opher 3.9.2015

8 thoughts on “Poetry – The Spider

  1. But spiders can be useful, too. One summer I had one spin its web just inside my bedroom window – in exactly the place the wasps liked to use to get in at 5am. I didn’t have a single wasp in the bedroom all that summer!

    1. You are right! I am a biologist. Spiders have an essential role in the web of life. I just suffer from arachnophobia! It’s irrational!

    2. I’m reading a brilliant book Neil – Yuval Noah Harrari 21 lessons for the 21st Century. Right up your street!

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