Tiny orb weaver,
Weaver of dreams.
Stronger than steel,
Are your invisible beams.
Golden and black,
Cringing from my touch.
Though endowed with venom,
It's really not much.
Crawling up my arm,
And refusing to bite.
Just you're mere presense,
Causes others great fright.
But you and I spider,
Know each other well.
Oh if you could talk,
The stories you'd tell.
So sit in your creation,
Of silk strong and fine,
Golden Orb Weaver Spider,
You're one of a kind.
You have glimpsed into the tiny depths of the universe, life small and large abounds... shall we see it? You have. - Bravo gran poeta!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well, not on my arm he cannot be! I gravitate more towards an oriole's nest, but your poem educational, to say the least, and so well presented!