In the meadow where dreams do lie,
Whispering dandelions kiss the sky,
Golden petals in the morning breeze,
Dancing softly with such ease.
Gentle whispers of summer’s end,
Carried on winds that never bend,
Seeds of hope on fluffy wings,
Each one a story, each one sings.
In the twilight’s tender glow,
Dandelions waltz in shadows low,
Fragile beauty, fleeting grace,
Time stands still in this magical place.
When night drapes its velvet cloak,
And stars weave tales of ancient folk,
Dandelions rest, their whispers light,
A meadow’s dream in the quiet night.