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About This Poem
Night Fireflys
Tucked into their beds.
The room dark as can be.
Than a light is seen though
the window.
Than comes another, and another.
Out of bed they run to see the lights
from the fireflies out their windows.
Hundreds flying, lighting the night.
Out side they go with open jars in
hand, they catch one, two, three until
the jar can't hold any more.
Lids go on and back to bed they go.
The room which had been so dark
is now lite up from the many fire
flies they had caught outside that
night.
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