The Art of a Spider

I grew up ashamed of your design.
I’ve seen people and their brooms
Constantly destroying your hard work.
Your home was never welcomed,
So much so that,
Surely,
For some,
Your work is bad luck.

I’m sorry to say,
Whenever I saw your web,
I knocked it away!
I nearly did it
Today.

Then I looked closer,
Enchanted by your skill.

I know it’s not the case,
But at that time and space,
I thought you’d woven it
Just for me.

You make me feel special,
Even though I know it’s silly.

Even rain droplets,
Like me,
Paused their usual course,
And spellbound,
Had clung on to you
To your silky web.