E.B. White wrote this poem in 1929 as a love letter to his wife, Katherine.
The spider, dropping down from twig
Unwinds a thread of her devising:
A thin, premeditated rig
To use in rising.
And all the journey down through space,
In cool descent, and loyal-hearted,
She builds a ladder to the place
From which she started.
This I, gone forth, as spiders do,
In spider’s web a truth discerning,
Attach one silken strand to you
For my returning.
Update 2011: Found this lovely feature on NPR.