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February 25, 2025
A.I. Generated
The sun dips low, the sky turns red, a dragonfly wakes, lifts his head. With shimmering wings, so light, so free, he flits above the blossomed sea. The daisies wave, the tulips glow, the lavender sways, so soft, so slow. Through petals bright and stems so tall, he zips and zags but stops to stall. For hunger stirs within his chest, his belly growls—he needs a rest. But buzzing midges, tiny flies, look up at him with pleading eyes. “Oh no,” he sighs, “I cannot bite, I’d rather dance in golden light. ”So off he whirls, without a frown, where dewdrops shine like jewels of crown. He sips the nectar, rich and sweet, from blossoms curled beneath his feet. And though his hunger fades away, he hums a tune at end of day. For kindness lives where moonlight glows, and even hunters sometimes know, that gentle hearts and thoughtful flight, can turn dusk’s search to pure delight.
