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.
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.
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.
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.
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