Dance of the Spider

All day she worked, she weaved,
Then by night which came so soon,
A graceful dance upon the threads,
She danced by light of the moon.

Plucking at the strings she made
A melody, so delicately played,
Each perfect note would brightly fade,
A dainty, peaceful tune.

It was glistening, yet invisible
Every strand so fine and strong,
So perfectly entwined together,
None too short and none too long.

An image never seen before
One so beautiful and pure,
Was swept up never cared for,
The end of a song.