by Daisy Deaton
Once upon a time, there lived a spider on her web.
She was a lonely spider, with no family or friends.
Although a lovely spider, still quite lonely was she.
And every night she wished, “Please let someone come to me.”
Now, Atha was this spider’s name, and what she loved most of all
was the music made by autumn leaves when from the trees they fall,
the blooming of the flowers and the sprouting of the plants,
the crunching of the snowbanks. All made Atha want to dance.
What she wanted most was to make music of her own,
but she had no inspiration. As I’ve said, she was alone.
“Oh, how I wish,” said Atha, “there was someone by my side
to stay with me and live with me. And if there were, then I’d
write them pretty music.” But she had no one, so she cried.
One day Atha sat outside, just basking in the sun.
A caterpillar moved in next door, a fat and happy one.
“Hello,” said he, “My name is Gus. I’ll be staying here a while.
How nice to meet you. And your home is lovely.” Atha smiled.
The spider quickly learned this caterpillar meant no harm.
The pair sat and laughed together, clasping their many arms.
“Finally,” the spider thought. “I finally have a friend.
I hope he stays forever so our friendship never ends.”
As time went on a small idea bloomed in Atha’s mind.
She had the inspiration she had always tried to find.
“I finally have something that I thought I’d never get.
He seems to be a friend, at least he hasn’t bolted yet.”
And so the spider Atha decided to write her Spinuet.
Every evening after she had spent the day with Gus,
she stayed up late working on her music. And she’d fuss,
“This bit’s too fast. This here? Too short. I’ll have to change this part.”
It wasn’t just a piece of music, it was a work of heart.
The fiery summer days soon slowly segued into fall.
When days were cold the pair wore webby blankets as a shawl.
Gus was often tired, so Atha gave him time to rest.
While he slept she worked on her music. She wanted it to be the best.
Her song was coming on quite well. Atha couldn’t wait to show
her caterpillar friend how he had inspired her so.
The winter days were coming fast. Gus always stayed indoors.
Atha hardly noticed, engrossed in music and her chores.
Her Spinuet was getting long; it covered all her floors.
One day she finally finished it! How Atha did rejoice!
She couldn’t wait to sing it with her friend of charming voice.
“Oh, Gus!” she cried, “Come outside! I have a surprise for you!”
No answer came, so she called out another time or two.
Still no answer, so Atha went into the house to see
where Gus had gone. “He couldn’t have gotten far,” thought she.
There was no Gus, but there was a large greenish-brown mass.
Around the room were scattered leaves and bits of nibbled grass.
The spider stood in shock. Her friend was gone. She was alone.
Her Spinuet meant nothing now if she was on her own.
She mourned Gus all the winter long and even into spring.
Atha felt no happiness; she had no happy thing.
“Without my Gus,” she wondered, “how am I supposed to sing?”
She checked the caterpillar’s home each day, though nothing ever changed.
She swept the floor and collected meadow flowers, which she arranged.
The Spinuet lay forgotten in a corner of Atha’s home,
but slowly she overcame the sadness and the gloam.
She sat out on her porch one day, just soaking up the sun,
and a butterfly flew past, a very pretty one.
“Hello,” said he. “My name is Gus.” He gave a beautiful smile.
“I hope we can still be friends. I know I was gone for a while.”
“Gus! You’re back!” Atha cried as she gave her friend a hug.
She told him about her Spinuet. You’d never seen happier bugs.
Atha performed the song that night for her butterfly friend.
The pair knew together many more happy days they’d spend.
So goes the story of the Spinuet. Thank you, and the end.