A Hole in the Ground

With apologies to those who may be afflicted with arachnephobia, I’ll continue with yesterday’s spider theme. I promise this is the last one, at least for a while. I wrote this rhymed story for my granddaughter when she was quite small.

The Secret in the Hole

Sara found a hole in the ground; A smallish hole, dark and round.

The hole made Sara stop to wonder, Who would live in a home down under?

A tunnel home as dark as night Would surely need a lamp for light.

Sara liked the bright, bright sun. A tunnel home would not be fun.

What about a rainy day? Would the owner wash away?

Was the occupant within Short and round or long and thin?

Did it scurry, scamper, scoot? Who would live beneath a root?

That whitish door across the hole Would not appeal to mouse or mole.

Then right before her watching eyes, A smallish shape began to rise.

The watching Sara now could see It was no snake nor bumblebee.

It had eight legs, all bristly, hairy, And looked to her a wee bit scary

The door moved out then opened wider To show a fuzzy trapdoor spider.

Then with a pounce and with a tug, The spider caught a careless bug.

And slipped inside its tiny door, A secret resident no more.

–Blanche Day Manos

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