Firefly, oblivious to your beauty in blackest night, come dance with me, yes, dance with me, until it is broad daylight.
If stars could transcend that pure and heavenly black, to come as God's lights into our Earthly sphere, perhaps they would be as the firefly, a living poetry.
Let the fire fly, my firefly; now is the time to burn down the night.
Sparks flare as a thousand dreams of yesteryear reborn as fireflies.
The fireflies danced in the night as if choreographed by every joyous memory and dream.
The fireflies come dancing onto their star-studded stage.
Upon a fragment of lightbulb filament was a firefly, her light radiating into the starry night.
The firefly glow, both newborn and millennia, call backwards and forwards yet only exist in the now.
After so many nights of blackness the fireflies were a welcome relief. They danced in a heady swarm of light, like a frozen firework explosion above the lake.
The fireflies flew above us like they were carried in unfelt currents. Just to look at them gave the camp ground a buzz of excitement, as if these tiny glimmers of light had electrified the summer night.