The Spiders Web
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
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