By Peter C. Horrell
The stars glimmered like diamonds; the moon was a ball of light Like a ballad the sounds of the insects echoed their songs in the night;
My work for the day was now over, as I on my veranda reclined,
It was time to relax in Maleny with a cheese and a glass of red wine.
When suddenly down swung a big spider, truly an incredible sight
His eight hairy legs so close to my nose it made me jump up with a fright.
My cheese went flying upwards; my red did splash and spill, As the spider –I named him Harry — began to show me his skill.
Four strands he spun horizontal, swinging by just one thread,
these were to be the foundation upon which he would build his web;
With speed, he then moved in circles, clockwise he moved to the right, each circle becoming much smaller, the centre now well in his sight.
Harry was a hard worker, who did not stop for a break, kept going until he had finished, two hours and a half it did take.
His web was well positioned, and covered a large track of space, it was a beautiful work of perfection that hung like a silken lace.
It was obvious that Harry was clever, because he had a plan, He showed me his skill as the factory, the architect, and artisan;
His body produced the substance that his legs weaved into a thread The design of his finished product an artistic spider’s web.
Like man; poor Harry also labours, just for his snack or a bite
His might be a fly, a moth or an ant, or some other trapped in its flight.
As I relaxed with my red in Maleny, I wished Harry, ‘Bon appétit! ` Spiders are such hard workers and deserve every morsel they eat.