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A
little spider
made his home
in the attic
of my mind,
each day when I
would climb the stairs
I would
always find
the spider
busy at his work
I'd watch him
quietly,
the cobweb he
was spinning
marked his
efficiency
now that I have him
up my stairs
I will let him
sleep,
for cobwebs are
not everywhere
but in
a mind
will keep
who knows
what thoughts
will stray his way
entangle randomly,
so many thoughts
are caught
in truth
accidentally.
© d.knape
October
14, 2014
More "Once
Upon A Line" - Light verse and poetry by d.knape
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