I'm tucked away in a very dark corner,
I'm just like little Jack Horner,
I'm not upset, I'm not perturbed,
I don't think I will be disturbed. Along comes the maid to do the chores,
Polishes windows and scrubs the floors,
Gives everywhere a jolly good vac,
A thorough spring clean - front and back. Of course when it comes to reaching high,
She tends to leave or pass me by,
Suspended there so delicate,
As I gradually accumulate. You'd have to stare - with the help of glasses,
'Cos I'm not seen by them what passes,
Most folk are content to let me be,
For you don't grieve what you don't see. I suppose when all is done and said,
My hopes are hanging by a shred,
I ply a rather slender craft,
I could disappear in a very strong draught! One day my secret will be out,
And then you'll know without a doubt,
The answer is simple - it's not very clever,
You could have knocked me down with a feather! Made by a creature you often dread
I weave a gossamer silken thread
My foes ensnared - struggle they might
No computer - just a slick website
- I'M A SPIDER.. | 
