Swinging gently with every move,
They sparkle in the light,
Tiny headlights in the darkening gloom.
As the day diminshes,
Like the sparrows in the streets,
They settle down, quieten,
And make ready for sleep.
At bedtime they are carefully removed,
Set down to nstle in their box
Along with all the rest
Returned until next time they suit a dress,
Or shirt, or skirt.
For that is how it works.