Rarely do I see myself...
As only the broken, damaged
     pieces seem to draw my attention

Is it any wonder that you
     take my breath away
You accept my
     broken, damaged pieces
And that is a wonder

But the greatest gift
     the greatest wonder
You have ever given me
     is looking at me in such a way
That now I too can see the
     pieces of me that are whole

Now I too know that
     I am more than the sum
     of those poor broken, damaged pieces

My only hope
     is that I return the gift

Elizabeth, the ****** Queen, left vacant the English throne.
Her Scottish Stuart cousin came and claimed it for his own.
Two nations with one monarchy joined in the Union Jack.
The Scottish lost their nationhood and now they want it back.
Saint Andrews’ Flag of Bonnie Blue will have to be unfurled
if Scotland votes to take its place among nations in the world.
Quebecois and Basques today are eagerly looking on
to see if Scots will vote to tell the English to be gone.
Hadrian’s Wall will, once more, mark where their dominion ends.
Remove your subs from Scapa Flow; your lease is at an end.
There still remains a problem which, just now, occurs to me.
If the English take their Pound with them, what is our currency?
It’s true we’re rich with North Sea oil and better off than Spain.
Yet how do we do business if the Sterling won’t remain.
We need a new “Gold” standard based upon the single malt!
Who needs pounds when we have ounces stored in barrels and in vaults?
So pour me a “MacCallan” on the day the rent comes due.
Hand me a glenfiddich and I’ll purvey food to you..
Our creditors will be well pleased with hints of bog and peat.
We won’t dilute our currency as Scots men drink it neat.

Come into my parlour
said the spider to the fly,
would you like a cup of dew or a slice of cricket pie.

Locust is for dinner,
Roach's served for tea
it should be really comfy
cause there's only you and me.

Perhaps we both can surf the web
or talk about the weather.
We could go out and try on clothes, I look real good in leather.

But first of all let's go inside.
That's it my dear fly
and now that you have entered here
it's time to say goodbye.

Falling to earth with such a crash,
antenna waves and legs do thrash
as panic fills this quiet place,
invading visitor is fast to race.

It chirps so loud, out into the night
perhaps to explain its weary plight.
In hope that someone may attend
and come to rescue a dear friend.

Alas the latter does not show
but I think that it doesn't know,
as off it stalks with knowledge none,
his fate is not an healthy one.

I sit in such a peaceful state.
Contented just to sit and wait
until this morsel feels secure.
As legs thrash through silky lure.

Until that time with such a gasp,
the critter steps into my grasp.
To struggle now is not of worth
as my fangs intrude throughout its girth.

With a body now so soft and limp,
interior now a lovely drink.
Its frenzied kicks to get away
for this cricket will never pay.

Venoms course, its presense felt,
a life that dwindles with the melt.
All that's left are bones to crunch
As this Tarantula enjoys her lunch