(upbeat music) - Hi, everyone.

My name is Mackenzie and today, my friend Neba is going to read to you "Half a Moon and One Whole Star," by Crescent Dragonwagon, illustrated by Jerry Pinkney.

(gentle music) - [Neba] Up above the Earth so far, hang half a moon and one whole star.

Hang one whole star and half a moon, nighttime will be coming soon.

Robins fold their wings and sleep.

Parrots rest in jungles deep.

Chickens in their hen house drowsing, owls and bats are just now rousing.

Possum sniffing, night frogs leaping, Susan lies in bed, not sleeping.

Not yet sleeping, but does she doze, blinking as the curtain blows?

Yes, yes, yes, she does.

Sleep, Susan, sleep.

Outside her window, summer night, in summer's scents, in summer's right.

For honeysuckle green cut lawns, Susan breathes green smells and yawns.

Susan hears the crickets whir.

Susan sees the curtains stir.

Sees them stir through half-closed eyes, hears the Steincaps call goodbyes.

Half-closed eyes are drooping low.

She hears laughter down below.

On the porch, her parents talk.

In the woods, the raccoons walk.

In the lake, the wet dark deep, do minnows flash though sound asleep?

Yes, yes, yes, they do.

Sleep, Susan, sleep.

Tonight the docked ship in the bay will raise the anchor, sail away.

And walking down a street alone comes Johnny with his saxophone.

He'll play it black and blue and right and at the club they'll dance tonight.

He'll play while bakers bake their bread, while Susan turns and dreams in bed.

Will morning glories closed up tight conceal their blueness through the night?

Yes, yes, yes, they will.

Sleep, Susan, sleep.

The ship is on the ocean now with one lone sailor on the prow who sees one star and half a moon, who knows daybreak is coming soon, who thinks of distant coral coves.

And bakers count their golden loaves as Johnny packs his saxophone and whistling softly, heads for home.

As Susan's parents sleep, their room is lit up by one half a moon.

Does Susan dream of music bread, of oceans as she sleeps in bed?

Yes, yes, yes, she does.

Sleep, Susan, sleep.

And when the night begins to pale, the possum drowsy curls his tail, the owl will land, the chicken stir, the crickets cease their nightlong whir.

And with the notes inside his head, Johnny will climb into bed, as will the baker's white with flour, as will the sailor in just an hour, for though the day has not begun, the sky will hint of coming sun.

And when the sky hints, won't the sun rise?

Yes, but not yet.

Close your eyes.

Yes, yes, yes, taste soon.

Sleep, Susan, sleep.

And in the morning when she wakes, Susan will eat breakfast cakes, and breakfast breads at breakfast hour.

The morning glories full and flower, her parents drinking orange juice, her summer nightgown light and loose.

No star to see, but half a moon that falls and fades and will go soon.

A rising shining, summer sun, another summer day begun.

And won't she swim and run and play and eat ice cream this summer's day?

Yes, yes, yes, she will.

But now sleep, Susan, sleep.

Up above the Earth so far, hang half a moon and one whole star, hang one whole star and half a moon, nighttime will be coming soon.

But where there's night, there's day to follow.

Sleep, Susan, sleep, for come tomorrow, above the Earth there will be one hotly glowing summer sun, round and orange like a ball, like moon and star, You'll have them all.

So sleep, Susan, sleep.

(gentle music fades) (upbeat music)