It reduces summer clothes to rags,
It dries out timber, makes homes frail
And ages those whose skins are pale.
Crows’ feet are common, sun spots too
Green lawns in summer are taboo
The water bill is far too steep
Unless you have a borehole – deep!
But not just humans love the sun
In nooks and crannies spiders run
And weave their lethal webs with pride
'Fast food' flies soon caught inside.
The linen press - a spider’s lair
So shake out all your sheets – beware!
Though small, these creatures pack a punch
A poisonous bite may spoil your lunch!
Cute geckos, harmless, enter homes
Deadly snakes hide under stones
Though houses all have fly screen doors
Teams of ants crawl over floors...
Invading armies flee great heat
Seen everywhere; we face defeat
Insects reign! Man thinks he’s boss
But “Down Under” he has lost the toss!
(c) Poet in the woods 2015
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