An old wives’ tale put to the test.
A money spider on my hand
Was tickling my skin.
They say it means I’ll soon be rich,
But the chances do seem thin:
How can it be that such good luck
Can come from one so tiny?
Just then, I noticed, on the ground,
The glint of something shiny . . .
I bent to take a closer look –
My eyes grew ever wider.
But as I reached to claim my prize,
I dropped my money spider.
O woe is me, calamity!
A monumental glitch!
Without my money spider’s help
I’ll never strike it rich.
I knew, of course, that such a myth
Offended common sense;
And yet that spider came up trumps,
For there it was – five pence!