In the golden glow of the sun's embrace, Where solar panels gleam with grace, A manufacturer of cleaning tools appears, To wash away dust and fears. Sprinkling droplets of purest rain, They wash away each tiny stain, Renewing energy, restoring power, In every shining, clean solar tower. With a clamp to hold tight, Their work shines bright, A poet's dream, a dancer's grace, In each panel's newly washed face.