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Poem

I opened up my cupboard door and then I opened wider,
Dwelling cozily inside, a most humongous spider. 

I do not kill a spider, that’s against this gardener’s rule,
But I don’t pick up a spider, I am truly not a fool.

I closed the cupboard saying,  “I’ll wait with you to deal
For tomorrow or the next day, depending how I feel.”

I went to work next morning without removing arachnoid.
I don’t know if I forgot or just was trying to avoid.

For in truth I don’t like spiders though she is a gardener’s friend,
But I’ll defend her right to live her span, right to the very end. 

All day I mulled my problem, how I’d trap her and release her.
I knew I must be careful, if I was clumsy I’d decease her.

That evening  I looked for her, but she wasn’t  where she’d been,
And to me an unseen spider is much worse than one that’s seen.

Then my darling son informed he’d been looking for a cookie
And had found the big old spider hiding in its little nookie.

He remembered what I taught him, that a spider is our friend.
He had carried her to the garden, the rest of her life to spend.

Written May 26, 2003

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