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*She sweeps away the cobwebs with her fingertips The silken web of a spiders thread Do Spiders ever wonder I wonder About using somethng more lasting Does it depend apon the feast they have consumed As to the quality of the thread they weave After all to you and I A cobweb is merely that A nuisance A sign of dirt Unkept ceilings hanging with the tombs of yesterday's memories When the sun shines through the web It becomes a piece of art A piece to be fashioned in silver or gold And laid to rest upon the rich girls breast She sweeps the cobwebs from her fingers The silken web of a spiders thread Then pins to her breast A piece of art A reminder that beauty is often flawed To the eye That can not see in black and white*
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Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 6:46 PM UTC
A Spider's art
*She sweeps away the cobwebs with her fingertips The silken web of a spiders thread Do Spiders ever wonder I wonder About using somethng more lasting Does it depend apon the feast they have consumed As to the quality of the thread they weave After all to you and I A cobweb is merely that A nuisance A sign of dirt Unkept ceilings hanging with the tombs of yesterday's memories When the sun shines through the web It becomes a piece of art A piece to be fashioned in silver or gold And laid to rest upon the rich girls breast She sweeps the cobwebs from her fingers The silken web of a spiders thread Then pins to her breast A piece of art A reminder that beauty is often flawed To the eye That can not see in black and white*
rai
Written by
rai
54/F/English
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 6:46 PM UTC
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