A flutter of yellow, alight with the sun,
Cinnamoth dances, where meadows have begun.
Wings kissed by fire, dusted with pollen’s gold,
A creature of magic, a story untold.
Its eyes, like amber, reflect summer’s gleam,
A gentle spirit, amidst a vibrant dream.
It sips sweet nectar, from flowers in bloom,
Humming a lullaby, dispelling gloom.
But whispers echo, of ancient lore,
Of moths transformed, on moonlit shore.
A hidden power, slumbering deep,
Awaits the call, secrets to keep.
Yet Cinnamoth yearns, not for starry might,
But for meadows bathed in gentle light.
To share its sweetness, a gift to all,
And answer friendship’s whispered call.
Oh, Cinnamoth, with wings of delight,
May kindness paint your future bright.
Let pollen dust, and stardust’s glow,
Guide you on paths, where love can grow.
For in your heart, where beauty lies,
True strength resides, beyond the skies.
And gentle wings, on sunlit breeze,
Will carry hope, for all to seize.