Happy Jasmine was twelve years old, and she was constantly prattling;
Like beauty stains of twilight skies, on gone, maroon sun, are tattling.

Jasmine liked the sound of her own voice, like redbirds in their youth;
And repeated things she had heard, without first verifying their truth.

Like the coming flash sale she'd heard of, that had already happened,
To which those told, arrived in frustration, enthusiasm soon slackened!

Jasmine and stylish friends found lots to talk of, in a fabulous summer;
Which preteen girls frequently do, on fun nights of laughs and slumber.

When an owl moved into their backyard tree, Jasmine was fascinated!
As sunshine gazes on rainbows, she gazed thru the panes, captivated.

Their family of fond future and past, came calling, like green forest trills;
When flame robins were flying fast, in the age of currant, sunset spills.

Jasmine lived in the house of familiar voices, like echoing deep canyon;
As fluffy clouds and teal blue sky, live together as constant companions.

Superstardom ended at bubble gum sunrise, anticipating deep golden;
On their street of squirrels scampering, in trees hundreds of years olden.

Gloss green navigator dragonflies went by, as near neighbors' advanced;
On the narrow path of nice flowers, making their day, doubly enhanced!

'Grafted moon' cacti scattered pearls, as if they were its sole possession;
When 'giant caladiums' stunned in black and pink, at nature's suggestion.

'Silver glory - string of hearts, trailed its lover, jet night, under pink moon;
As 'Mediterranean magic' charmed in the east, during vivid days of June.

Jasmine watched her russet hued owl daily, and gave it the name, 'Siesta..'
She loved the way rich, Mother Nature, liked to splatter colors and extras!

After hearing a test would be given in two days, Jazz told her best friend;
But, it was given that afternoon! They flunked it, like time's golden end!

Watching her wise owl, 'hoo' observed more, and spoke noticeably less,
Jazz realized the harm of impulsive speech; like croaking, bogland excess.

As green, purple, and red leaves, signal a gemmed year is getting older,
Pretty Jasmine was getting older, too, like a sunset moon, getting bolder.

'A wise old owl lived in an oak.
The more he saw the less he spoke.
The less he spoke the more he heard.
Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?'