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Sunday, August 7, 2011

#219 Spidermonger

When the night is still
And the crickets have gone to bed
The mice in their burrows
Are asleep and well fed

When your dreams are so sweet
That's when he'll come
Stepping softly
Disturbing not even the dust

Carrying his little cages
In his little leather pouch
Stacked neatly
Polished to a shine

It's a showcase
It's an event
It's what you've been looking for
At least that's what he'll say

The Spidermonger
Spreads out his wares
Which are almost his pets
Upon your hand stitched quilt
At the foot of your bed

He's got black ones and brown ones
Furry ones and bald ones
Fanged and many eyed
He stares at you
And they do too

Roughly a million eyes on you
And you can feel it
Your sleep is disturbed
You roll restlessly

And when you don't awake
To pay him any mind
He'll repay you in kind
But not before sowing some seeds
To suit his future needs

Carefully, oh so carefully
He fishes out his spider mother
And lowers her slowly into your ear
There spider mother lays her eggs
In a little pouch
Kisses it good luck with her fanged mouth
And climbs up and away

The Spidermonger smiles quietly
As he packs up his wares
The shiny little cages
Go back into his little leather pouch
And he steals softly into the night
Knowing that he'll be back
For the package planted in your ear
Will come to fruit in a fortnight
When the night will be still
He'll return to gather them up
Oh yes he will