SeaSky: Part 1

I wrote this pre-children and would be keen on some feedback. I am currently searching for an illustrator to collaborate with to try and get it published, but it needs some brisk editorial work, I think. You would think that, as an editor, I could do that myself, but it is not so with your own work. Too much ego involved!

Good and splendid day to you,
Settle for there's much to do.
I have a story great to tell
So listen good, o listen well,
For in the twists of this old rhyme
There lies the secret of our time.
Cast your mind like a vast net
And catch my words lest you forget.
When all your days of youth are gone
Remember well and pass this on.

On a planet of pinkish hue
And water flowed both clear and blue,
There lived some creatures blazy bright
That worked machines both day and night,
To heat the whispish air ...
And till the rich brown bog ...
And fill the dark with golden light.

Whilst in the tunnels of their soil,
In earth as cold and black as oil
Things did shuffle 'mongst the roots.
Amongst these deepest rooty holes,
As snuffly blind and soft as moles.
These small things were Truffles called,
That silent crept and unseen crawled.

In the blackness of their day
They closed their eyes and smelt their way.
They used the senses of their paws -
The life of earth beneath the claws.
But after every fall of night
They crept into the bright moonlight
And blinky opened up their eyes
To set them on the twinkling skies -
All silv'ry filmed and big as moons,
Curved and bright as polished spoons.

Under blanket of the night
They sniffed the air that all was right,
And listened for the tapping trees,
The whispering wind and tunneling bees,
The secrets of the earth laid bare,
The tides within the shifting air
That sometimes needly pulled and bit
Or stroked and gently folded them in it.

Sun and moon these creatures share,
The same soil, same plants and air.

Each night the Murgles danced and sang.
Across the stars their laughter rang.
They parties held in praise of flowers,
And liked to watch the beasts for hours.
They always tried to do their best,
And worked all day to earn their rest.

So every day the Murgles toiled
And in their heated houses boiled.
They drank a special happy brew,
And out their windows rubbish threw
For the clever collecting machine
To come chugging by and sweep in clean.
Then this machine all loaded with trash
Would dump its load with an almighty crash,
Into a giant, stinksome pit
With all festering rubbish in it.

But over weeks and months and years the rubbish pit grew and grew,
Until up their doors the ground was nothing but gunge and poo!