The silver spider ever spinning webs
Atop my garden’s flowers in the light
It stops to tend to tangles in its threads
It makes sure I am always out of sight
A golden sunbeam shines, the webs aglow
In summer’s bloom the air is thick and warm
Each flower planted neatly in a row
The spider’s magic shortly will transform
The stems and leaves all covered in jacquard
And woven nets keep petals in a bind
The spider doesn’t seem to have regard
For how its work may really be unkind
For flowers’ beauty does most often lie
In how they grow, and change, and wilt and die
Silver orb weaver spiders display aggressive mimicry by creating webs that appear to bugs as nectar guides, the ultraviolet markings on flowers that indicate to bugs that they are a source of food (Criag, 1995). Using this scientific phenomenon as inspiration, I depict a silver orb weaver in the Magician quilt. Departing from the free verse style of writing seen thus far, my narrative continues with a sonnet called “Silver Spider Sonnet.” Continuing to use extended metaphor as a device, I describe a spider that has made itself at home in my mind’s Garden. It uses its weaving abilities to tightly wrap and preserve each flower, but this action prevents the flowers from completing their natural life cycle. Still enclosed in my Fortress, I stay detached, showing little vulnerability in this writing. I continue to provide minimal context and few details about the actual events of this conflict.