In the quiet hours, beneath celestial whispers, she wove dreams from stars.
Each strand a soft murmur, each touch a gentle caress of the silver beams.
Listen closely, for the night speaks in tongues unknown,
Secrets hidden in the sigh of autumn leaves, dancing with the moonlight.
A lover's promise, etched in the glow of twilight's embrace.
A staircase of dreams ascends to the lantern-lit ether,
Step by step, each whispered word cradles an unsung sonnet,
A reflection, a riddle, the heart's vessel filled with mysteries.
Oh, little silver, your essence lingers like a melody unheard,
In the archive of time, your laughter sparkles like dew on morning's veil.
Let this night be your canvas, painted with the fervor of forgotten glories.