You sit upon a mushroom, so fragile and small. A little tiny being, you can barely see at all. You fly among the flowers, across the sky of blue. Then through the blades of grass, touching them with dew. With wings like a moth, or a dragonfly. I hear the sound of them, as you flutter by. The moon creeps across the sky, behind the trees so tall. Then you rest upon a rose, as night begins to fall. I will look for you tomorrow, when the sun comes up again. You are so wonderful, my teeny tiny friend. written by Frank Rosalez.