Sometimes War Is Hell
Silken thread, the trap inviting.
Brilliant colors dance with light.
Tempts his unsuspecting victim.
As he waits, day turns to night.
Hunger deepens, the web lies still.
Impatiently he paces.
At last a moth flies very near.
Spider doesn't see the laces.
Moth senses trouble close at hand.
Spider's ready with his glue.
Moth backs off a litte bit.
Spider doesn't see the shoe.
Spider once hidden by a branch.
Restlessly moves around.
Moth once again nears the web.
Trouble for spider abounds.
Shoe comes down on spider.
Moth lies still in web.
Once again the yard is still.
Sometimes war is hell.
Cinda