Jumping Spider (Salticidae)

A spider lives inside my head 

Who weaves a strange and wondrous web

Of silken threads and silver strings

To catch all sorts of flying things.

Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles

And specks of dried-up tears,

And dust of dreams that catch and cling

For years and years and years...

-Shel Silverstein

Shale

Ah, Tener­iffe!”

Ah, Tener­iffe! Retreat­ing Moun­tain! Pur­ples of Ages — pause for you — Sun­set — reviews her Sap­phire Reg­i­ment – Day — drops you her Red Adieu!

Still — Clad in your Mail of ices – Thigh of Gran­ite — and thew — of Steel – Heed­less — alike — of pomp — or parting

Ah, Tener­iffe! I’m kneel­ing — still –

By Emily Dickinson

Glow worm (Lampyris noctiluca)

"We are all worms. But I believe that I am a glow-worm."

Winston Churchill

Baby Opossum (Didelphimorphia)

Two tricks has a 'possum
When danger is near.
To climb to a treetop
Or hiss full of fear.
But when these two fail
He tries this instead,
Rolls up like a ball
And pretends he is dead.

From the book "The Opossums" by Anne LaBastille

Butterfly

Should have known it was all elementary
Lift my head and bow to the beat
Close your eyes and love is all around you
The distant wave of a sea

Closer to the edge I found
I was standing in the second round
I was laughing but I didn't make a sound
Now I'm flying with my feet on the ground

Hold me close you know that you have to
Tie me up pin my down
'Cause I won’t fly in a broken wing dimension
You change the chord and the sound
Closer to the edge I found

And me, I never had me a home
Never sleeping in a place with my own
I was crying but I didn't make a sound
Now I'm flying with my feet on the ground

Burlap to Cashmere

Wheel Bug (Arilus cristatus )

PERSEUS AND THE SEA–MONSTER

     And now the monster was within the range of a stone thrown by a skilful slinger, when with a sudden bound the youth soared into the air. As an eagle, when from his lofty flight he sees a serpent basking in the sun, pounces upon him and seizes him by the neck to prevent him from turning his head round and using his fangs, so the youth darted down upon the back of the monster and plunged his sword into its shoulder. Irritated by the wound, the monster raised himself into the air, then plunged into the depth; then, like a wild boar surrounded by a pack of barking dogs, turned swiftly from side to side, while the youth eluded its attacks by means of his wings. Wherever he can find a passage for his sword between the scales he makes a wound, piercing now the side, now the flank, as it slopes towards the tail. The brute spouts from his nostrils water mixed with blood. The wings of the hero are wet with it, and he dares no longer trust to them. Alighting on a rock which rose above the waves, and holding on by a projecting fragment, as the monster floated near he gave him a death stroke. The people who had gathered on the shore shouted so that the hills reechoed with the sound. The parents, transported with joy, embraced their future son–in–law, calling him their deliverer and the saviour of their house, and the virgin, both cause and reward of the contest, descended from the rock. 

Thomas Bulfinch