A spider spins a micro fine thread, her gentle web to weave, <br />It is with awe, that we behold this art, one can't believe <br />This work, viewed on a frosty morn, portrays pieces of fragile lace, <br />How can a tiny creature create these patterns, with silent grace. <br /> <br />She works with great dedication, using skills beyond belief, <br />Securing her thread to one, and then another sturdy leaf, <br />Or twig, or gate, or fence, or flower, whatever is to hand, <br />A magical spun gossamer, her love sealed in every strand. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pieces-of-fragile-lace/
