Eaves Drop

This, is a lengthy, and sad sort of rhyme
That starts, with a spider, the size of a dime
One day he began, a most dangerous ascension
To build a web, up high, was his modest intention

Beginning, at the base, of a three story wall
He weighed the chances, of failure, on four strong legs all
On the other, four limbs he soon, correctly surmised
His goal would be attained, for he was “spider wise”

Crawling and resting the whole afternoon
He dreamt how his “new” home, would be closer to moon
About halfway up, he eluded a fellow spider
And warily, passed the egg sack, she guarded beside her

His father and his father, had not ever been dreamers
They’d lived near the ground, and been complacent schemers
Yet something in him, implored “reach for the stars”
Live on the high, where at night, you can almost touch Mars

As the sun dipped out West, he achieved his destination
Higher than any, of his family’s generation
The view was magnificent he could scarce believe his eyes
And with humble beneficence, his spider eyes cried

Through the whole of that first night, he crafted his web
A home fit for a king, like a spider celeb
As the sun rose once more, bringing warmth from the East
Our spider king waited, for what he knew would be feast

No ordinary spider, our web glider, astute and assuredly wise
He was soon inundated, his belly pregnated, by dozens of corpulent flies
Compactly wrapping and cocooning then cocooning and neatly wrapping
By nine he was gorged and by eleven he was napping

But unknown to the king, in his most regal splendor
A plan was afoot, that could be a life-ender
On the roof of a house, not some thirty feet away
Sat, a blue scraggly bird, some folks call, a scrub jay

This old bird’s eyesight, was quick to confirm
A much easier lunch, than the hunt for a worm
So as he prepared, to depart and take flight
The spider king napped content, his eyes were closed tight

With a rush and a swoop, the old jay descended
And in a manner of seconds, the spider’s life had ended
One glorious morning he had lived out his dream
Then died with closed eyes ‘fore a squawking jay bird’s scream

The old bird was pleased, with his now accomplished task
He’d fly out to the country, and in sunlight he would bask
Old eight legs had been fat, succulent and tasty
The old bird never thought, that perhaps he’d been hasty

As the jay made his way, to the country for a rest
Two young men walked with shotguns, and had shells in their vests
The hunting had been slow, nary a bird had been spotted
They’d shot the hell out of beer cans, now only one shell was left allotted

One finally said to the other, “Let’s call it a day”
When there appeared in the distance, an old scraggly scrub jay
The young men then briefly argued and drew a quick lot
Then the winner emerged, he’d get the last shot

Unbeknownst to the happy, and soaring old jay
Death, lay below, a scant forty yards away
As the sun warmed his old feathers, the jay heard a sound
Then plummeted headfirst, to soon strike the ground

The young men were ebullient, they had at last made a kill
And they laughed and they joked, overcome with the thrill
The old jay had delayed, their departure from the field
And that delay, on this day, three men’s lives would soon yield

Johnny Jones at that precise moment, finished up his one beer
Told the bartender, “The wife’s having a baby, I’m out of here”
He then fumbled through his pockets and handed out cigars
A happier man never lived, as he headed to his car

As the hunters still laughed and joked, then rounded a sharp curve
They met up with Johnny Jones, and it was much too late to swerve
Folks for years ‘round these parts, talked about that collision
Three men died, many cried, and some spoke of fate’s mission

Now on a day, as the mighty sun, rises in the East
Another spider king, sits on his throne, awaiting the day’s feast
And perhaps, three men somewhere, look down upon this day
Warily watching out, for an old scraggly jay