The Curds and Whey

The curds and whey, a sickly, pallid gleam,
Reflected in the dew-kissed morning light,
While Miss Muffett, a child of fragile dream,
Sat trembling, fear a constant, chilling blight.
The spider, lurking, watched with hungry gleam,
Awaiting the right moment for its flight.

Her eyes, wide pools of terror, met the gleam
Of malice in the spider's emerald light,
A creature of the night, a living dream,
Whose touch could bring a swift and chilling blight.
The curds and whey, forgotten, lost their gleam,
As fear, a suffocating, icy flight,

Consumed her soul. The spider, in the gleam
Of morning, cast a long and eerie light,
A silent hunter, living out a dream,
Of feasting on this child, a gruesome sight.
The curds and whey, untouched, remained supreme,
A mockery of peace, a chilling flight.

The spider, poised, prepared to take its flight,
A shadow in the pale and eerie light,
While Miss Muffett, pale and trembling, lost the gleam
Of joy, replaced by terror, cold and bright.
The curds and whey, untouched, a gruesome sight,
Remained, a testament to her chilling flight.

The air grew thick with dread, a chilling blight,
As the spider, poised for flight, awaited the right
Moment to strike, concealed within the light,
A creature of the shadows, a gruesome sight,
While Miss Muffett, frozen, lost all sense and sight,
The curds and whey, untouched, gleaming bright.

The spider, sleek and deadly, took its flight,
A blur of motion, swift and silent in the light,
Landing upon her arm with chilling blight.
The curds and whey, forgotten, vanished from her sight,
Replaced by terror, cold and ever-bright,
A scream, unheard, extinguished in the night.

The night descended, shrouding all in light,
Obscuring the scene of that horrific flight,
Where Miss Muffett, lifeless, met a chilling blight,
And the spider, sated, vanished from the night,
Leaving only the memory, cold and bright,
Of curds and whey untouched, a gruesome sight.

The morning sun, a cruel and mocking light,
Revealed the scene of that horrific flight,
Where Miss Muffett, pale and still, met her chilling blight.
The spider, gone, had vanished in the night,
Leaving only the memory, cold and bright,
Of curds and whey untouched, a gruesome sight.

The curds and whey, untouched, remained a sight,
A chilling monument to that fateful night,
Where Miss Muffett, lost to the eternal light,
Had met her doom, a victim of the night,
Consumed by fear, engulfed in endless blight,
Her innocence lost in that chilling flight.

The villagers, drawn by an eerie light,
Discovered Miss Muffett, frozen in the night,
A chilling sight, a victim of the blight,
The curds and whey, untouched, gleaming bright,
A silent witness to that dreadful flight,
Where innocence succumbed to the endless night.

The news of her demise, a chilling blight,
Spread through the village, casting shadows in the light.
The curds and whey, a constant, gruesome sight,
Served as a grim reminder of that fateful night,
Where Miss Muffett, lost forever to the night,
Met her demise, consumed by endless fright.