High above the world so bright,
Where day turns gently into night,
Lived a little Star Painter, small but wise,
With paintbrushes made from moonlit skies.
Her job was simple,
yet full of cheer—
She painted stars to make night clear.
Dipping her brush in jars of light,
She filled the heavens with twinkles bright.
But one dark night,
the stars went dim,
Their glowing light began to thin.
“Oh no!”
she cried,
“What can I do?
Without bright stars,
the night feels blue!”
With courage bold and her magic art,
She flew to where all stars must start.
To the Starry Well—
a glowing lake,
Where twinkling light she’d gently take.
She scooped up gold,
she scooped up blue,
And splashed the night with shades anew!
Each star she painted, bold and bright,
Brought laughter back to the sleepy night.
The owls hooted, the foxes pranced,
The sleepy woods began to dance.
“Thank you,
Painter, for the skies,”
The stars now sparkled, no more sighs!
As morning’s light began to play,
The little painter flew away.
Her jars of light,
all safe and tight,
Ready to paint the next new night.
© 2024 Samantha Syrnich TLC, all rights reserved.
The Phoenix Quill: Words Born of Fire, Inked in Truth 