Fog

"It wraps you in
 its ghostly arms,
a gray and clammy thing.
Yet if you move,
it lets you go
and never says a thing."


poem and image source unknown

Time

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me.
The Carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality
~Emily Dickinson


Image Source

"Said the spider to the fly"

"The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again: So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple -- there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue --
Thinking only of her crested head -- poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour -- but she ne'er came out again! "

 

- The Spider and the Fly: A Fable

 

 

Image by Art Scott of the Curioddities Cabinet
For the full poem by Mary Howitt go HERE