The old man looked at the little girl lying in the sturdy wooden bed his own grandfather had made. His eyes a silvery gray color, sparkling. "Dreams are made from starlight Jade, don't you ever forget that. Always leave the curtains open so the stars can see you when you sleep."
nighttime sounds: an owl in a tree, wind rustling the remaining leaves gnarly branches, black against the moon the sweetest dreams, taking residence in my heart you & I an impossible possibility the sheets will not reveal my secrets
never would there evermore a song upon a breeze for music has forsaken us went lost among the trees now darkness has surrounded us and vanquished all the light in silence now we just await the visitor in the night