In the interlocks of the unseen space
He’d spit and draw some dreamy lines
Against the wind he would enlace
A grand structure of godly designs
With four pairs of legs to hold him tight
He’d sit there quietly in his humble abode
When a flybyer comes in without an invite
He’d leap and bind him with all web he could afford
With his prey hanging there like a chandelier
He’d feast like a king with an endless reign
But the next day if you seek him, he’d be nowhere near
For he is a nomad who leaves his old whims behind