The moon is peeking, soft and bright. Little lamb, with wool so white, Is getting ready for the night. His day is done, the sun is low. It’s time to settle, quiet and slow.
He finds his favorite, softest spot, A cozy place, not cold or hot. He stretches out, a sleepy sigh. The stars begin to dot the sky. Very, very quiet now.
Sleepy thoughts, somehow. The soft grass cradles his little head. He closes eyes, warm in his bed. The night is safe, the world is still. Just gentle dreams, over the hill.
Sleepy, sleepy, time to rest. You are loved, you are blessed.