"Good Company"
I sleep in a room at the top of the house
With a flea and a fly and a soft-scratching mouse,
And a spider who hangs on a thread from the ceiling,
Who gives me each day such a curious feeling
When I watch him at work on his beautiful weave
Of his web that’s so fine, I can hardly believe,
It won’t all end up in such terrible tangles,
For he sways as he weaves, and spins as he dangles!.
I cannot get up to that spider, I know,
And I hope he won’t get down to me here below,
And yet, when I wake in the chill morning air,
I’d miss him if he were not still swinging there,
For I have in my room such good company,
There’s him, and the mouse and the fly and the flea!.
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