Oh! what a lovely sight to see,
On a dew kissed morn
A Lacey delicate web of string,
With the designs of octagons.
There is a Cat in the Glass and its looking right at me.
I hiss at it and try to look behind but its just never there.
I stand high up to match his paws. That cat must surely
see how very important that finding him can be.
They lurk in the trees and bushes at night
On Summers Eves nights,
During the full moons eight,
Ghostly white faces with horns and grins