The First Meeting....

I saw him first

On the thirty first of August

On a moonless night

With only a lamp for a light.

He wore orange and black

And stood some feet back

Eyes glittering in the dark

Like a burning ember pack.

I wanted to shriek a cry

But my voice went dry

All I could do was

Stare him in the eye.

He stood still like a pillar

For he was a cold blooded killer

Time was passing by

And I let a little sigh.

Night was dissolving into day

Both wanted to go their way

I wanted a picture of him

But the light was still dim.

I turned to get a torch

From the downstairs porch

And then he was gone

I let a big loud  yawn 

Thinking  how eight legs

Were faster than two

After all he was a spider

And I'm only a writer.