In moonlit corners they weave their art,
Silent architects of the night’s embrace.
Threads of silver, spun with heart,
In delicate patterns, they find their place.

Beneath the stars, their dance unfolds,
A symphony written in silk and air.
With each strand, a story told,
Of patience, beauty, and gentle care.

In shadows deep, they find their grace,
Unseen to most, yet always near.
Their webs a tapestry in hidden space,
A world of wonder, fragile and clear.

Let us admire their quiet might,
These tiny weavers of dreams untold.
In their presence, the night feels right,
A dance of mystery in threads of gold.