As I came out from behind a backyard bush,
where I'd gone to secretly pee,
I paused to admire its clumps of purple blossoms,
and there I spied a silent …..bumblebee.
I stared at the bee (I was very close) ,
and then I stared some more.
The flower's inner surface was near-white,
and the bee was near the flower's core.
I waited for the striped bee to fly off,
but that darn bee never did budge.
THEN I saw the yellow spider sucking at the bee's neck,
like I would feast on a piece of fudge.
I think the spider had injected the bee,
turning the bee's innards into soup.
Part of bee would be converted to spider tissue,
and part of bee would become spider poop.
I'm writing this sitting outdoors in a chair,
and I just noticed a small spider on my sleeve.
It's a teeny-weeny (little) spider, BUT,
if I see a GIGANTIC spider coming, I think I'll leave!
(May 30,2014)
oops! i just proofread my poet's note and found that i typed it's for its. i've edited it so it should be corrected soon! bri :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
He he im alive n kickin, centpeds rarely cause death. Aha n i admire yor observant eye at the food chain eh. But dont yah pee in d garden when u hav a fine washroom ok.; -) . Yor flow n rhyme are enviable here. Enjoyd many lines here esp the innard soup one. I love only such creative fun poems. I tel u other english poets write boring so i dont say it is fabulous unles it realy is. Hey do u hav blac widows there? Im terified of them frm the telly n pics.