Orb-weaver appears, suspended in air,
Like my wisps of thought.
She of the Araneidae clan,
With banded legs like slivers of tortoiseshell,
Victorian spinster, spinning, eloquently spinning
Silk into gold, weaving words into passages,
Illuminated by nature, by muse.
Tiny amber feet tap keys of invisible pianos,
To silent rhythms of raindrops on frosted pages,
Creating rivulets of diamonds on reflective panes.
She feels, she imagines, she interprets,
And from her body’s etched cabochons of topaz and jet,
Glistening threads emanate, stringing dewy pearls
Of creation, of inspiration, of some deeper instinct,
That drives her as she dreams…as she dreams,
And, endlessly,
Spins…
Neat words, it always amazes me to see them run across the web after prey. Gary
Thank you so much Gary. Nature is endlessly fascinating.
It takes great skill to paint a picture of beauty from a spider! Lovely!
Hello and thank you very much for your lovely comment.
Wow! Great poem and photo! I especially love these
lines:
“With banded legs like slivers of tortoiseshell,
Victorian spinster, eloquently spinning
Silk into gold, weaving words into passages
Illuminated by nature, by muse.
“Tiny amber feet tap keys of invisible pianos,
To silent rhythms of raindrops on frosted pages,
Creating rivulets of diamonds on reflective pane.”
Well done! Thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much Gail. I appreciate your read and words.
Very much enjoyed the poem”Weaver of Dreams”. Thanks so much!
Thank you so much for your kind read and comment Ed. So glad you enjoyed my poem.
Very much enjoyed the poem “Weaver of Dreams”. Thanks so much!