Little fireflies flowing through the wind,
Twirling, swirling all the way in,
Through seep settled fog,
And a brief counter bog,
They shine a temporary light,
That makes the night seem bright;
Little butterflies flowing through the wind,
Up and down, and up and down they go flying in,
Bringing nectar to flowers and a show for others,
They go on and never bring bothers,
Instead they give the gift of colors,
To show the world the true making of their collars;
Little birdies flowing through the wind,
Twisting and turning through the passage of the bend,
They do not pay mind to the watching souls,
They rather bring joy to the newborn foals,
This proves their life has power,
Never do they have to show their cower;
Little gifts of life flowing through the wind,
Plowing through the sunny sky out of their whim,
Providing their bodies as a source of show,
Continuing their flights for the peoples bow,
Filling themselves with joyful laughter,
That we shall not bring to shatter.
Trying something new, not sure how I like it
