Once upon a raindrop, a whisper slid by, all wrapped in the gentle, twirling sky.
The trees could tell stories, if only they could speak, about ticklish wind breezes that make shadows peek.
Clouds like cotton balls, floated in a game, hiding little sunbeams that are always the same.
A bunny once dreamed, under a cloak made of moss, of magical places, where finding one's lost dreams is never a loss.
Remember the puddles, mysterious and deep, reflecting worlds where the stars never sleep.
The path leads onwards, echoes in the corridor whispering tales anew.
Float along with whispers here and there, finding secrets in the gentle air.