ARACHNID

The pollen-laden meadows ripple,
The seas of grass on hedgerows lap;
While clouds and swarms of insects wing,
Arachnid waits within her trap.

She'll hang so still and patiently,
This summer's day her time will come;
When tired and lazy meadow fly
Will blindly find the orb she's spun.

And so to dark, as insects roost,
To hide away from cooler air;
Arachnid labours half the night,
To spin and weave, and make repairs.

And with the dawn, and early dew,
Arachnid's orb of silk will shine;
But soon returns invisible,
To trap the lazy meadow fly.