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In the whispering trees at night, a swing gently sways, Carrying a young girl with pigtails, lost in play.
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The moon shines down on the silent scene below, As twinkling stars watch the swinging show.
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Whispering trees dance in the soft night breeze, Their leaves rustling with a calming ease.
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The swing creaks softly, a comforting sound, As it moves back and forth above the ground.
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The young girl closes her eyes, feeling the cool night air, Wrapped in a peaceful moment without a care.
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The swing slows down, coming to a gentle stop, As the night gives way to the morning's first light atop.
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The girl opens her eyes, greeted by the dawn's light, A new day beginning, chasing away the night.
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