Spiders, they’re not so creepy after all...

I wasn’t really bothered, ’Til others changed my mind, Spiders, earwigs, beetles, Insects of any kind.

None of these things

troubled me,

Nor brought on any fear

I’d even put them to my mouth, When mother wasn’t near. While happily accepting These things that

crawl about,

My family and my elders Started to point out

The horror of the creatures That roam about the house. From silverfish to earwigs And sometimes a woodlouse. They must be right, for they

should know,

They’re adults, after all.

I then became afraid of them And squashed them on

the wall.

That spider on the ceiling, When lying in my bed, Made me hide beneath

the sheet

And filled me full of dread. In middle years I little

Joke

MOLLY acquired a mynah bird to keep her company. One afternoon, she invited a neighbour round for tea. While they were sitting on a couch supping their brew, the bird kept repeating the word ‘worm’.

‘Why does she keep saying worm?’ her guest enquired. ‘Oh,’ Molly replied, over the rim of her cup, ‘It’s just something she picked up.’

Alfred Smith, Chatham, Kent. changed, but lost some of my fright.

I still disliked most insects, Though ladybirds I liked. Butterflies were all right, too Though moths weren’t quite

so grand. Admitting this, while still

quite young,

’Twas hard to understand.

Now my days are numbered, And precious, every one. With conscience I now realise The harm in what I’ve done. At last these lives are valued, As is my very own. Instead of random killing Their presence I condone. So when a creepie-crawlie

appears upon the floor, I make a point to treat it With care and then ensure That on removal from

the scene,

As most folk will decree, I’m very gentle in the task And think: it could be me. I’m still not keen to pick

them up

It’s daft, beyond belief.

So I trap them with a

drinking glass

Then slide a card beneath. I take them to the garden And set the creatures free. Knowing well they could

crawl back.

But will they? Well, we’ll see.

Ray Jones, Colwyn Bay, Conwy.

WordyWise

EONION — we’ve been crying over onions for ages now. GONION — tearless onions at Waitrose makes them fly off the shelves.

CONION — not tearless — they make you cry!

HONION — award- winning onion.

BONION — French without tears onions are good.

Antony Dean, Keighley, West Yorks.