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Look at the pretty butterfly
I watch as it comes and flutters by
Til plastered in web to nobly die
For the Spider.

Tiptoe, little ladybug
In delicacy across the leaf you chug
Until you step into a sudden hug
From the Spider.

And pretty little buggies best
Stop being loved by ladies, lest
You lose them in cocoon's caress
To the Spider.

But needn't you hate the lovely spider
And be jealous of her radiance
Just watch an hour of her spectral dance
As she weaves her flattened twelve-point lance
To serve as her good china, so delight her
When a tux-garb gent makes way, despite
Her widow's hungry, jealous spite
Her lips conceal appreciation.

But what of all this deprecation?
Hating her should not be sanctioned
Without a peer into each eye
Each one holding intent to vie.
In that leaf-riddled, riddling tie
She's suspended in her own creation
Gorgeous and cunning, she's a sensation!

Pluck the strings of her lyre
Made of platinum, they'll never tear.
Say the same for the wings of butterflies?

Between her slender legs, she'll coat
Her palace with a perfect note.
To silence the legs of ladybugs.

If you stumble upon the lady's vug
And you see her sparkle with her mistress gleam
Fear not this realm or this graceful queen
And never herself despise!