The 9th prompt for this poem-a-day challenge is to write a hunter/hunted poem(s). Here we go!
He slowly creeps, stalking his prey,
waiting for the telltale signal,
a struggle, some sign that today
the ambush is successful.
When the alarm arrives, he is swift,
disabling his quarry rapidly,
tying it securely, and, with thrift,
preparing it for the larder.
When out of nowhere,
the broom straws sweep,
him away, him and his lair,
shrieks and cries
as the wolf spider
meets his demise.
(In fact, spiders are our friends. I am one of those people who lets them live and gently herds them outside if they become a problem. Well, except venomous spiders. To learn more, see: http://theglassspider.hubpages.com/hub/Strange-Facts-About-Spiders )