That spider decked out in eight shiny shoes
adorning her small feet were red stilettos
her toes stuck out and they were manicured
sunglasses perching quaintly on her nose
And coming up behind, don't you suppose
a handsome brute - soooo dressed to kill
Young Spider who gunning for her virtue
He tagged along.. I think his name was Phil
I watch her as she spins and weaves, I spill
some glitter on the web she weaves so fine
Phil creeps closer lasciviously will
she take him in with her to eat or dine
She kicks off her shoes settles in the sac
She’s known around this web as widow black
Comments
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This is such a charming poem..brilliant penning
the imagery is marvelous..the rhyme is tight and the flow is smooth
actually, this could be a great metaphorical piece as well
Write On! you are a talented poetess..David
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