Ala bam a
The spider works without a break,
Not stopping for an instant,
Building a trap that has no bait,
She'll not waste a single minute.
She spins her web, taking care,
With designs-precision neat,
Countless days of work now spent,
On this exquisite feat.
The web now flawless is blown away,
From winds of midnight air,
Her masterpiece of countless hours
Is now no longer there.
But relentlessly again she weaves,
Probably in vain,
Swept away by Autumn winds
Just to toil her spin again.
Spider's have such awesome tasks,
Against the winds of fate,
And we know just how she feels,
Using Windows 98!
[This message has been edited by Toerag (edited 10-12-1999).]