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The moon on the moon. This is the moon who lives on the moon. Every night he swims down to earth in his long swimmer to soak up all the drinks that he takes from children's ears like steam from a kettle.

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And he flunked back up again and used the ruinous thing to power the engine that lights up the light bulbs that make the moon glow.

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But one evening the loom jumped down to earth to find the looms had all dried up.

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Oh, dear, he said. Oh, five bangles. Five bangles is quiet and naughty. What on the moon? Now I will have to get my dream steam from somewhere else. Perhaps the mop tops on Mercury have some.

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So the loon swung with a boom to Mercury. Hello, mocktops, do you have any dreams, dream? He asked. The mocktops started dancing. No dreams to me here, moon loons. They all chose it together. Try the noodles from Neptune.

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So the looms zoomed with a boom to Neptune.

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Hello noodles, do you have any dream steam? he asked.

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The noodles were sitting on their noodle nest waiting for their noodle eggs to hatch.

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Cool, our dream steam is all finished, they could.

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Trade the pink mingos from Venus.

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so they loomed through with a groan to Bain's,

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but the beatings were far too busy telling each other jokes

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and laughing until their bottoms fell off,

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care about green steam.

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The youths from Uranus weren't much else, either.

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Nor were the siblings from Saturn,

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nor the moons from Mars, nor the angels from Jupiter, nor for all who come from Pluto.

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Faith fumble, says the moon, no grim esteem means, no power which means no moon.

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That night the loon only had enough powers to light up three quarters of the moon, then half the next night, then a quarter, until finally the light in the moon went out together.

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What was the loon going to do?

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He was being very sad sitting all alone on his sad moon, when all of a sudden he had a fantastic, brilliant, extraordinarily exciting idea.

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As quick as a flash he wrote down the day of his address page shared from Dream's team.

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Then he wrote it again and again and again until he had an enormous pile of stories.

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Then they swam with the little bush down the hill and they left a story in every tree's room.

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room, when they heard the story, their heads were filled with nocturnes, and loins, and

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And the night day out drains of marvellous heat, And the moon comes like afternoon.