A soft breeze drifted through the sleeping meadow,
Making the golden tops of Indian grass dance
In the cool summer air.

Star twinkled bright in the sky above,
Casting a melancholy glow over the quiet plains.
Another breeze drifted through,
This time carrying whispers across the meadow,
Of a blue moon soon to come.

The steady wind suddenly stilled,
And the radiant shadows of safety parted,
As the warm rays of the summer sun rose.