By Linda Tenney
Date: 8 December 1997

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The gossamer strands of the widow’s web
Hold her prey in her silken bed
Dream catcher, night crawler, spinner of lies
The beauty of her web is just a disguise
Drunken they stumble into her lair
Awash in blind passion, they cling unaware
Quietly they hang in enchanted bliss
Awaiting the sting of the spider’s kiss
Such a beautiful creature, she spins her cocoon
Smiling as she wraps them, sealing their doom
The widow, victorious, is alone once again
Predator, slayer, master of men.