Wherever you can stretch a line
those wily weavers will design
a matrix of the finest silk
produced by craftsmen of their ilk
that sparkles like the brightest gem
in any royal diadem
when golden sunlight filters through
prismatic drops of morning dew
adorning every wispy strand
that’s interlaced across the land
comprising this careening sphere
to which we now adhere.
Are You Reading Me?
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