The moon was in its last quarter phase the day you were born
Time for action and transition according to the lore
Your mommy or daddy reads the pages of your sleepy-time book
In the baby duck learns to swim across the little brook
Your doggy, Appa, has long since laid down his head
At the foot of your crib, dreaming about a duck in a brook
The Sun is jealous as she relinquishes you to the moon
For time with you is precious
Sleep will come soon
Outside your window your faithful companion, Spruce, waves
Goodnight with pleasure to his diminutive treasure
Big blue eyes in shades of the humble Bluebells and the strong
Impact of the Larkspur
Slowly close…it is still…nothing stirs
Sleep as a baby lamby
Sweet little Hammy
