Dreams upon their gossamer wings
come drifing down upon us
white and sparkling
like falling snowflakes,
glittering
The form of some sprite
or elven-like figure
tiny feet barely touching the surface
the sill of the window
silent, they creep
their delicate features,
angled in expressions of kindliness,
mischief,
happiness,
caring
touch as light as baby's breath
or soft raindrops upon skin
or downy feathers
They hover, silent,
or dart playfully above

The spider, her small form above
the bed where I lay to sleep
Her thin legs carry her
in circles, in zigzags
with fine silk behind her
She weaves and she moves
silent, intently
she spins and she weaves
she spins and she weaves
the stuff of my dreams