NO ESCAPE

The gentle pitter-patter of his tiny little feet

Could be heard, but very faintly, as he sought out something sweet.

His target lay in waiting, primed and ready for attack

And once his search was started, there was no more going back

The sweetness lead him onwards as his fly feet pattered near,

Approaching close to danger that he didn’t know to fear.

He almost reached his target and he crept in past the lip

Then he paused for just a second as he went in for a sip.

He tried to turn and go back out but tripped a switch inside,

And turning round he saw more flies all black and dead and dried.

The two jaws of his prison wrapped around him like a cape

And he found, from Venus Flytraps, there was truly no escape.