The spiders web

Written by: Mark Norton

The spider’s web

Comes the sound of early spring,
More silent then the spider’s web;
As the patter of rain and loves decay 
Gone like morning to a day

Until the worth of our years are gone 
Never to return,
And memories trapped in a spider’s web
Are lost in its woven thread 
 
For here the air of spring’s rebirth
Blow’s warm and sweetens the day,
Till the silent thread of a spider’s web
Is gone like morning to a day

                               By m.norton
marklnorton@shaw.ca