☁️ The Sleepy Little Cloud
High above the meadow lived a little cloud named Puff. All day long, Puff floated and played. He made shapes for the children below: a bunny, a boat, a big round cake.
When the sun began to sink, painting the sky pink and orange, Puff gave a great big yawn. "I'm sleepy," he whispered. "But where does a cloud go to sleep?"
He drifted over to the tall pine tree. "Can I sleep here?" he asked. "My branches are too pokey," said the tree kindly. "But try the hill."
Puff drifted to the soft green hill. "Can I sleep here?" "I'm getting cool and dewy," said the hill. "But look up, little one."
Puff looked up. There was the Moon, round and glowing, holding out a silvery beam like a blanket. "Come rest beside me," said the Moon. "I'll keep watch all night."
So Puff snuggled up next to the Moon. The stars twinkled a quiet lullaby. Below, the children were tucked into their beds, and the whole world grew still and soft.
Puff closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Moon. Goodnight, stars. Goodnight, everyone."
And the little cloud drifted off to sleep. 🌙