In a meadow where the flowers dance, The whispering wind did softly prance. It played with the grass, with the leaves it danced, A gentle tune that made the heart prance.
The sun shone bright, the sky was blue, The world was still, the day was new. The wind did sing, a melody sweet, With “er” sounds that made the day complete.
The bees buzzed ‘round the clover’s head, The butterflies fluttered, spread their bed. The wind did sing, a melody so clear, Its “er” sounds like a lullaby, so dear.
The brook below sang a sweet song, Its waters danced, a gentle long. The wind did play, a tune that soared, With “er” sounds that filled the air, so bold.
The birds took flight, their songs did rise, A chorus of “er” sounds that did surprise. The whispering wind, it did not tire, Its melody, a gift, a treasure, so rare.
For in that meadow, where the flowers sway, The wind did sing, a song that stayed. With “er” sounds that danced in the air, The whispering wind, a melody rare.
