I was sittin’, I was knittin’
On a sweater I could wear.
When I finished, I said proudly,
“Hey, I’ve done some weavin’ there.”
But ol’ spider on the gossamer
From the ceiling to the stair?
Can you let the wind blow through it
So it sways but doesn’t tear?
Then can you grab onto it
And swing lightly on a hair?
When you can--then you may truly say,
‘I’ve done some weavin’ there.’”