There is a house in Ipswich Town
That’s called the Spiders Weave.
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor fly
As its upped and tried to leave.
Now the only thing a spider needs
When not spinning its silky web.
Is the odd fly to seduce and pull apart
Before taking it to its bed.
One day there was a blue-bottle
All shiny green and fat.
I saw the arachnid slither along
Pounce and put it inside its hat!
Now here’s a message to all you flies,
Don’t fly near Ipswich Town.
There are eight hairy legs awaiting
And one will bring you down!
© 2015, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.