A Web in the wind
I watched a web a spider spinned
and, by spinned, I mean span or spun,
toing and froing in the wind;
its silk threads glistening in the sun.
Though not a pretty thing to flies,
as the sun plucked upon its strings,
it played a music for the eyes;
soft as a butterfly's bright wings.
“So gentle”, thought I, “Yet how strong.
I wonder how long it will last
before its gentle, glistening song
is ended by wind’s trumpet blast”.
But on it billowed, flapped and fluttered
like a bright flame does when it gutters;
that thing as gentle as a rhyme
and I hope it lasts for a long, long time.