So it is said; spiders like conkers not,
And so an arachnophobe did place,
Conkers in every corner, crook, and hole,
To deter those nasty eight-legged beasts.

Time did pass,
The conkers settled,
What was this new home they found?

Behind the washing machine,
A conker, found life!
So nice, so moist,
Its roots set forth.

They crawled along the floor,
Beneath the skirting board,
Into the wall!

They spread,
Branched,
Divided,
Burrowed.

In a soil of crumbling wall a conker sat,
Shoots went out,
Seeking, seeking…
Light!

The shoots, unusually long, burst into leafy blooms,
Beside the washing machine the conker grew
The shoots and leaves crept, crept, until…
The arachnophobe noticed; “What’s this? A plant?
A conker tree behind the washing machine, how strange.”