The Counting Stars in Lullaby

One, the lonely moonlight, whispers soft shadows. It counts the dreams left untold upon the night.

Two, the hidden fairies, dance in circles around sleeping daisies. Their music a song of very few words.

Three, the silent owls, gather wisdom amongst the branches. Their eyes know the tales that numbers speak.

Four, the drumming rain, patters lightly on winding paths. Transformation dances along shadows and echoes of creatures unseen.

Five, the flickering stars, shine in harmony scattered across the sleepy sky. They are the guardians of whispered secrets.

Six, the question mark filled adolescents collect tangled this-and-thats in their pocket-lined intuition.
Seven, the winding whispering streams sway serenely, carrying secrets of innocent knitting patterns.
Eight, the number with legs so creatures with simpler logic polish and trick.
Turn the unturned leaf... Beyond the curtains of numbered calmness...