The little ones, visit us every day
Wiping off the golden rays,

When the supper is served hot
and the grannies rock the cots,
the children return home
silently tiptoe the little gnomes
Its when the grandpas lit their cigars
and silence roams in parks and bazaars
the little ones hop and climb
painting skies, black and fine
they rub off the remains of the sun
and cool off, all its burns
they plaster the yellow, crescent crust
cleaning off yesterday's dust!
Next they glitter the fireflies
Perfectly golden, neat and nice
The littlest one, of them all,
itches, galls and squalls
Gifting us a desired sneeze
Sprinkling over the stars on all!
The stars twist, blink and wink
And beautiful lullabies they sing!