Goodnight, Goodnight Construction Site

For one blue-eyed boy and one brown-eyed boy and the world of wonder and possibility I see through their eyes. And, always, for Faith.—S. R.

To Jan, for sharing a dream.—T. L.

Goodnight, Goodnight, Contruction Site

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D
own in the big construction site,
The tough trucks work with all their might
To build a building, make a road,
To get the job done—load by load!

T
he sun has set, the work is done;
It’s time for trucks to end their fun.
So one by one they’ll go to bed
To yawn and rest their sleepy heads,
Then wake up to another day
Of rough-and-tough construction play!

W
orking hard to help his team,
Crane Truck raises one last beam.
Reaching, stretching, lifting high,
He swings the beam into the sky.
He’ll set it down right on its mark,
Then off to bed; it’s almost dark.

H
e slowly folds his boom back in,
And then with one last sleepy grin,
He tucks himself in nice and tight (
sigh!
),
Then cuddles up and says goodnight.
Shh…goodnight,
Crane Truck, goodnight.

S
pinning, churning all day long,
Cement Mixer sings his whirly song.
Now (
yawn!
) he’s weary
and so dizzy,
From the fun that keeps him busy.
With one last spin, he pours the load.
He’s ready now to leave the road.

H
e takes a bath, gets shiny-bright,
Pulls up his chute, turns off his light.
He cuts his engine, slows his drum,
And dreams sweet dreams of twirly fun.

Shh…goodnight,
Cement Mixer, goodnight.

D
ump Truck loves to work and haul.
He carries loads both big and small,
He moves the dirt from place to place,
Then dumps it with a happy face.
One final load spills on the heap (
crrrunch!
);
Now Dump Truck’s tired and wants to sleep.

H
e lowers his bed, locks his gate,
Rests his wheels; it’s getting late.
He dims his lights, then shuts his doors,
And soon his engine slows to snores.
Shh…goodnight, Dump Truck, goodnight.

P
ushing with his mighty blade,
Bulldozer works to smooth the grade.
He clears the way to level ground,
And fills the air with thunderous sound (
rooaaar!
).
No one’s as tough and strong as he,
But now he’s sleepy as can be.

H
e puffs some smoke out of his stack,
Turns off his engine, stops his track.
He curls into his soft dirt bed
And dreams of busy days ahead.

Shh…goodnight, Bulldozer, goodnight.

S
cooping gravel, dirt, and sand,
Excavator shapes the land.
He digs and lifts throughout the day (
arrgh!
),
But now it’s time to end his play.

A few more holes to dig and soon
He’ll roll to bed beneath the moon.