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Poems, Verses and Nonsense Rhymes

Richard Edwards

Tarantula, tarantula,
Hidden in your crate,
Can you feel your hunger
Turning into hate?

Tarantula, tarantula,
Being swung ashore,
What are all those whiskers
And those fine fangs for?

Tarantula, tarantula,
Lowered to the quay,
Will you thank the greengrocer
When he sets you free?,

Tarantula, tarantula,
Scuttling out of sight,
Whose bed will your darkness
Glide beneath tonight?

The Snake
Richard Edwards

I hate the snake
I hate the snake
I hate the way it trails and writhes
And slithers on its belly in the dirty dirt and creeps
I hate the snake
I hate its beady eye that never sleeps.

I love the snake
I love the snake
I love the way it pours and glides
And esses through the desert and loops necklaces on trees
I love the snake
Its zigs and zags, its ins and outs, its ease.

I hate the snake
I hate the snake
I hate its flickering liquorice tongue
Its hide and sneak, its hissiness, its picnic-wrecking spite
I hate its yawn
Its needle fangs, their glitter and their bite.

I love the snake
I love the snake
I love its coiled elastic names
just listen to them: hamadryad, bandy-bandy,
Sidewinder, asp
And moccasin and fer de lance and adder
And cascabel
And copperhead

Green mamba, coachwhip, indigo -
So keep your fluffy kittens and your puppy-dogs,
I'll take
The boomslang and
The anaconda. Oh, I love the snake

Emily Dickinson

A SPIDER sewed at night
Without a light
Upon an arc of white
If ruff it was of dame
Or shroud of gnome,
Himself, himself inform.
Of immortality
His strategy
Was physiognomy.

Emily Dickinson

THE spider as an artist
Has never been employed
Though his surpassing merit
Is freely certified

The Spider and The Fly
Mary Howitt

'Will you walk into my parlour?' said a spider to a fly:
'Tis the prettiest parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there.'

African Poem

Wily hunter, your webs are well woven
Spider, you are assured of abundant food
Forest, be propitious
May my hunt be as joyful as the spider’s


Michael Flanders & Donald Swann

I have fought a grizzly bear,

Tracked a cobra to its lair,

Killed a crocodile who dared to cross my path;
But the thing I really dread

When I've just got out of bed

Is to find that there's a spider in the bath.
I've no fear of wasps or bees,
Mosquitoes only tease,
I rather like a cricket on the hearth;

But my blood runs cold to meet
In pyjamas and bare feet
With a great big hairy spider in the bath.

What a frightful-looking beast -

Half an inch across at least -

It would frighten even Superman or Garth.
There's contempt it can't disguise
In the little beady eyes
Of the spider glowering in the bath.

Now it's time for me to shave

Though my nerves will not behave,

And there's bound to be a fearful aftermath;
So before I cut my throat
I shall leave this final note:



One elephant went out to play
Upon a spider's web one day.
He thought it such a tremendous stunt
That he called for another little elephant.

Two elephants went out to play
Upon a spider's web one day.
They thought it such a tremendous stunt
That they called for another little elephant.

Three elephants went out to play
Upon a spider's web one day.
The web went CREAK
The web went CRACK
And all of a sudden
They all ran back.

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Last Updated: April 04, 2007