Hush now, little wander-heart, the night is softly spun,
Miss Moirae’s weaving silver threads across the sleeping sun.
Her light drips down the windowpane, a gentle, glowing stream,
To wrap you up in wonder-cloth and rock you into dream.
The stars are her freckles that twinkle with glee,
They giggle and shimmer, then wink down at me.
She hums through the branches, she hums through the air,
Her voice made of moonlight and lavender prayer.
She kisses the ocean and calms every tide,
Then tiptoes through treetops where night-birds hide.
She tucks every creature in blankets of blue,
And whispers, “The world is safe — I’m watching you.”
So close your bright eyes and drift where she sings,
Past meadows of glow-dust and soft-silver wings.
For even when clouds keep her shimmer from view,
Miss Moirae still glows — and she’s thinking of you.
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