Lying inert on his creaking bed
The old man entertained himself
Watching a spider spinning a web

The little creature deftly moved
From mirror to ceiling weaving
Long almost invisible lines of mesh

An hour later its web was ready
With several tiny insects trapped
Within its very delicate precincts

The old man smiled like King Bruce
He too was impressed by the spider
Its determined and indomitable spirit

Each time it slipped or fell, undeterred
It went back to its job on hand quietly
Following its ' never say die" philosophy

Sandra Martyres

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-man-and-his-muse/