I wanted to write a poem to you,
But I can’t
So soon, you’re gone
Closing out of town already
I wondered, “How does a spider weave its web?”
This was months ago,
Providence, I paint the door and window frame
Perfect weather, Indian summer, and I owe Belinda
Finished, a late lunch
How was I to know the paint was dry enough for
“The kitchen won’t clean itself,” came the cry
So I tried to do my bit, then time to recline, to the
Relax, look out, far and further, sky’s blue,
The sun’s golden this day, time for memories, hopes...
Push on the fears.
And from the frame so newly painted, you dropped
Dangling and hopping and skipping along -
The camera in my mind pans, “Don’t cut!”
Wow! A spider weaves a web
Where’s my phone? Quick
Filming’s fun, to cut a long story short
As you weave your web
Whose not gonna get this?
To Belinda: “Get the steps, feed the cat, and do you
have black card?”
Play is in the unexpected, ‘tis for the best
No black card...
Turns to be good job an’ all,
Never was there such a sky, glory!
I’m thinking music already...
And I’m hearing Frank: “I get no kick from
‘tis good. Maybe. We’ll see
I’m taking photos, too
If this phone’s as good as they say, they’ll be good
I’m thinking he needs a name
Thirty-five mins’ footage in the can
So let’s see what we got
Edit early, learn new tricks
Another morning, seems much later, I review
Gordon is his name
But so soon, he’s closed out of town
So soon, and people ask, “Is he still in the garden?”
I must confess, I don’t think so
People wonder, why Gordon?
He just seems like a Gordon,
Sort of fella you could share an hour and a pint with
down the pub,
I thought I could write a poem about him,
But he closed out of town
Gordon the Amazing Spider -