In the morning light, they rise,
Wings glistening like fragments of dawn,
Skimming the surface of tranquil ponds,
Guardians of secrets long gone.

They dart and hover, swift and sure,
Dancers in a ballet of the breeze,
Painting the air with silent grace,
Whispering ancient stories with ease.

Jewels of the sky, in hues of blue and green,
Their flight a delicate, ephemeral art,
Each movement a testament to life’s fleeting joy,
A reminder of nature’s ever-beating heart.

As twilight fades, they disappear,
Vanishing into the embrace of night,
Leaving behind a trace of wonder,
A memory forged in pure, ethereal light.