In the damp of night of a colourless garden
Often a wandering firefly flows,
And as it makes it way ahead
The color of the garden, it glows.
It hastens to sit on the red beauty
That tickles and kindles his heart,
It paints my eyes with red to think
If only this colour he could impart.
Then he runs to follow the dandy green
After all, now he hates the grey
But wait there’s the violet waiting for him
Rush! Before comes the day.
He merrily glows on the orange buds
And wobbles about the whites,
To finally sway on the pinks
And glare upon the night.
The night is drenched in hues of blue
But flickers of colours spark,
As his light illuminates the flowers
And spreads, glittering the dark.
From far above as the winds look down
With the stars, then they say for funs
“The garden blooms with twinkles (many)
Like from a thousand splendid suns…”