A Spider’s Skill!

How doth the little spider be,
A Master of Geometry?
Oh tell me, tell me, if you know,
Where did she learn to weave quite so?
Please tell me little Spider friend,
How many hours did you spend
Creating such a sight to see,
Such skillful lines of symmetry?
Concentric frame,
Installed at night,
A work of art,
By morning light!



Autumn Glory

Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com
It's Autumn once more,
What a sight to behold,
Streets lined with crimson
And laden with gold,
Moon like a saucer,
Days getting shorter,
As summer lays down
To make way for the cold.

Warm woolen knits,
Crackling fires,
Wild geese take flight
Over pink sunset skies,
Off with a flap of migratory wings,
The earth gives birth,
Creation sings!

Season of beauty,
Nature's last fling,
Before winter makes bare
And the earth sleeps til' Spring,
Emblazoned in scarlet,
You take your last breath,
Your most glorious hour,
Was found at your death.