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
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