The disgust of the onlooker's glare.
Days entwined with silk streamers interposed.
Momentous mornings and an evening to mend
The creator strokes
Up and down
An ovals
All in swoops together
attached
connected
labor
scrutiny
Completed in glory
A work with heaven's blessing.
Crushed at the whoosh of a palm.
Answer:
a spider's web
Labels: 2008: Digitalis
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