Wondrous Web
The master weaver weaves his web
Immune to weather’s flow and ebb.
Unseen for nine months of the year
This diamond-studded lacework here
No tasty morsel trapped, I think,
But dainty dewdrops sweet to drink;
Condensed from early Autumn mist
The wondrous web with moisture, kissed,
Like beads of mercury, perfect spheres
In which a micro-world appears.
O Spider with your legs so thin,
Who, may I ask, taught you to spin
Such a delicate and light affair
Suspended in the morning air ?
Copyright © Mike Jones | Year Posted 2014
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