There is a spider who lives in the well,
Her name is Doubt.
We do not need to fear her,
Unless we are thirsty.
When you draw from the well
She may bide her time below
Or rush up the sides,
A tentacled eclipse.
She may ride up on the bucket,
Or lurk on the far side, out of site.
She may hover behind you,
and grace your neck with a kiss.
There is a spider, who lives in the well,
and I am feeling somewhat thirsty.
\m/ (-.-) \m/
I love this story of the spider. I don’t think I will be drinking from any wells in the near future, just in case……
Just take a chance …
i think it takes something special to write a poem about a spider. …but just thinking about a spider ‘kissing’ my neck makes me feel kinda funny (not the haha kind) . doubt is a good name for a spider no doubt… 🙂 =^,,^=
Poor maligned spider…
I saw a spider who was tending her spiderlings. Imagine that such critters have such complex behavior.
It’s almost as if an evil spider could not just insidiously await your neck for which to kiss; but, could actively plot your murder as revenge for messing with her spiderlings.
Don’t drink the water!