In a quiet little village, tucked far away,
Was a patch of sunflowers that danced in the hay.
They stood tall and proud in the golden sunlight,
But their magic began with the fall of the night.
When the moon climbed high and the stars came to play,
The sunflowers whispered, “It’s time to sway.”
Their petals would shimmer, their stems start to hum,
Singing soft lullabies as sleep softly would come.
“Hush now, little ones, rest your weary heads,”
They’d sing to the crickets tucked into their beds.
The fireflies blinked in a shimmering dance,
While the flowers sang songs that put all in a trance.
One little girl, named Clara Belle,
Heard the songs as she dreamed, and she could tell
That the melodies came from the flowers nearby,
So she tiptoed out to give them a try.
“Oh magical flowers, you sing so sweet,
Can I join in and add to your beat?”
The flowers just chuckled and swayed in reply,
“Of course, dear Clara, just sing to the sky!”
So Clara sang soft, a tune of her own,
And the flowers’ melody became better known.
Their voices together wove dreams in the air,
Filling the village with songs full of care.
The villagers woke to a feeling so bright,
Thanks to the songs of the flowers at night.
And Clara Belle knew, as she lay down to sleep,
That the sunflowers’ songs were a secret to keep.
So if you’re out late, and the moon glows so wide,
Listen for songs on the soft evening tide.
For the sunflowers sing to the stars up above,
A magical hymn, a lullaby of love.
Goodnight, little dreamers, may your dreams take flight,
With sunflowers that sing in the soft moonlight.