Its almost night, stars gently twinkle in the twilight;
Norman the gnome sits on a log, his throne,
Surrounded by the little folk, enthralled by stories yet to be told.
With a flourish, he poured from a pouch
Pearls that glistened in the moonlight.
“Tired was the Tooth Fairy from her night flight,
Collecting from under pillows teeth that had fallen out,
She transforms them into pearls
That came from little boys and girls.”
Continued the gnome in tones low,
“These pearls are sent away, to a secret place in the sky,
Where each helps build a palace,
Where happy dreams and ideas can flourish.”
“What happens to happy dreams made from the pearls?”
Asked an enquiring little elf, by himself,
“They are presents for others, who are soundly sleeping.”
Replied Norman yawning.
“There are many stories from the palace of dreams
But now you must away home, to your beds
Look at the silver moon you sleepy heads.”
The moon seemed to smile, at the children passing by,
Who would tell their parents, of the palace of pearls in the sky.
Of the tooth fairy who changed teeth into pearls.
Knowing on reaching home, their teeth they will be brushing,
Wondering of the palace of pearls, they may soon be dreaming,