Little Spider

Black Widow King perched handsomely

In the weaving cobwebs where he dwells

Waiting for the submissive spiders to come and play.

Fangs flash his poignant sneer

Lithe body dances the lured bait

While miniscule prey drinks poisoned dew

And he sings the last lullaby,

"The Itsy-bitsy spider,

Curled up in my thread

Down came the King

And made the spider dread

Out came the blood

And dried up all the veins

And the itsy-bitsy spider

Breathed ne'er again."

Foolish King,

Beware my Queen with her amorous bite

Or share my fate

And find yourself on your back,

An itsy-bitsy spider in

Her trophy room of bodies.