Finding new complexity in hand writing dexterity
Searching for lost artistry in the guise of poetry.
At times the images so surreal, in my mind a cotton reel
Unravels till a tangled thread weaves a web around my bed
Then ‘Itsy Bitsy’ comes to call. Arachnophobia cause me to fall
Awaking with a nasty bump, in my throat a ticking lump.
As I yawn, a black widow falls and bites my naked toe.
Then scampers off somewhere to hide… No antidote to be applied
What will now become of me, and my newly found complexity?
At the proverbial ‘curling up of toes’, ‘Itsy Bitsy’ runs up my nose,
and proceeds to weave a silver thread, that leads me back into my bed
A cobweb covered woven duvet, now shrouds a corpse when once I lay