Beneath the golden sun, they dance and glide,
In meadows lush with green, where dreams reside.
With wings so delicate, they skim the air,
A fleeting glimpse of magic, rare and fair.

Through morning mist and evening’s amber glow,
They weave through time, in rhythms soft and slow.
Their whispers tell of secrets old and wise,
Of ancient tales beneath the boundless skies.

In tranquil ponds where lilies grace the shore,
They find their rest, their journey to restore.
Reflections dance upon the water’s face,
A mirror to their elegance and grace.

And as the twilight fades to night’s embrace,
They vanish into shadows, leave no trace.
But in our hearts, their memory will stay,
The dance of dragonflies, a bright ballet.