Intricate in its shape
Its delicate pondering of its next right move
Chain of command always on the teeter
What it can eat and who is likely to feed it
Making a web to catch its innocent prey
Watching as it falters into the spiders dinner tray
Labelled as evil by any horror film made
A life of getting by and working hard, no badness does it make
As ugly as it was once crowned by a God with no commanding easel
Screamed at by plenty like the scratching of a trouser weasel
Be careful of the poor thing as its tiny in appearance
Its hanging in the corner doesn't want any interference
Just a life of getting on without the shaking and the shouting
Moving in measures not meant to get the human heart beating

For I am only,

Watching a Spider

JJB