Silken shadows, woven stars,
a cage of moonlight, pale bars;
Here she creeps, there she glides-
on threads of grey her time she bides.

Over leaf and over bramble
the dark and quiet, hers to gamble;
stand and watch, but never speak-
it's hers to hold and hers to keep.

She's the silent, she's the ghost,
she hunts the wing'd, his deadly host;
stills his struggles, steals his face-
the Lady Spider, in love with grace.