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.