The Tiny Artisan

Beads of mist had highlighted the web
Early morning sunlight bejewelled
The tiny droplets that sparkled
Swaying like minature chandeliers
At the smallest breath of breeze
I plucked a blade of grass
And touched the art work gently
It was then I spied the artisan
Half hidden by a curled leaf
It did not move but seemed to stare
Its disgusted defiance at me
"Who are you to meddle with my work?"
How ignorant and foolish I felt then
For I had dared to interfere
With a construction designed by his Maker!