In the quietude of dusk, they take their flight,
Glimmering wings catching the fading light,
Whispers of dragonflies in twilight’s gentle sigh,
As day turns to night beneath the endless sky.

Their dance is a story of ancient lore,
Etched in the air as they gracefully soar,
Mysteries woven in the evening’s embrace,
A fleeting glimpse of nature’s own grace.

On silver streams they hover and play,
Guardians of dreams at the close of day,
A moment suspended in time’s gentle flow,
Where the secrets of the universe softly glow.

In the heart of the night, their magic remains,
A symphony of silence in the starlit plains,
Dragonflies whisper of worlds unseen,
In their ephemeral dance, a serene dream.