Whispering winds sing songs of forgotten toys
buried in sandy shores beneath waves of dreams...
A gentle star once told a secret
about the jumping clouds that dance
when nobody's watching.
In the land of lime trees and sugar hills,
whispers ride on the backs of dragonflies,
echoing wishes from old lemonade stands.
Night's blankets wrap around sleepy thoughts,
holding them close till morning's light opens
the eyes of day to all their hidden songs.