In shadows deep and whispers light,
The spiders weave through silent night.
Their webs like dreams in moonlit glow,
A secret world that few will know.

With delicate legs, they dance and spin,
Creating art from thread so thin.
Each web a story, intricate, grand,
Crafted with care by nature’s hand.

In corners dark, where stillness reigns,
They work in peace, free from chains.
A testament to patience, skill,
The spiders’ quiet, steadfast will.

So let us honor these silent spinners,
The night-time weavers, quiet winners.
For in their webs, we see the grace,
Of nature’s hand, in every space.