Sweet Tentacles

A patient spider waits,

with its cobwebs of dreams

and a few that it borrows from clouds.

Too many have come crawling

on dark nights - unaware, unguarded.

It has kept souvenirs,

For the times to prove.

There have been a few who escaped,

A few, it had let go.

On rainy days, it has seen how men fall

on weaker grounds.

A patient spider waits -

with its claws dipped in that sticky ink,

we call love.

- 2016