Little Green Spiders De Jour

Our first drawn breath A symbolic pact Stating Mother Nature's works as natural acts Without sayers of fortune Or circled hands professed of shine Only an arachnid's sky bound brood Did manifest her vision in his mind In morning bright Were shooting strings and streaks of gleams Trailing little things Wishing stars in broad daylight Little green spiders Previously felt A feeling's core Same of nature Only different than the one before In pre-launch mid-morn sun Lashed to strands of silken catchers of wind were shimmering pieces of her dreams, each silent image a reflective portrait, her beautiful ways and means Ushered gently aloft in a morning's breeze In colors deluxe Sequences of movie scenes flashed on Golden-Era silver screens Born from spinnerets of spider 'lings To glide across our mind on glistening linear wing As if on cued melody each streaming web reflected times of a young love past Holding hands or sitting on the grass Carefree without worry, they thought forever their days would sing Standing graveside of a long lost bride A gray-haired man smiled as he cried, did ask in jest "My dear, in what manner or form will your collusion de jour with nature haunt me next." We love these moments of past dreams dreamt, regardless they be natural acts or heaven sent