The Fawn’s First Spring

In a dappled glade where sunlight weaves,
A fawn takes its first steps among the leaves.
Beneath the canopy of emerald green,
A world of wonders, yet unseen.

Hooves, delicate as morning dew,
Tiptoe through a meadow, fresh and new.
Whispers of blossoms, sweet in the air,
As the fawn, in innocence, begins to dare.

Soft as a zephyr, the wind’s gentle kiss,
Caresses the fawn in a moment of bliss.
The trees, wise sentinels of ages untold,
Witness the tale that’s about to unfold.

In the dance of the flowers, the fawn finds delight,
As it gambols through petals, pure and white.
The chorus of birds overhead takes flight,
Welcoming the fawn to the symphony of light.

In the babbling brook, a mirror of silver,
The fawn discovers a world to deliver
Reflections of curiosity, wide-eyed and bright,
In the liquid mirror of soft twilight.

With every step, the forest rejoices,
As the fawn discovers its own small voices.
A lullaby sung by the rustling trees,
A serenade carried on the whispering breeze.

Spring unfolds its tapestry rare,
Painting the world with colors to spare.
And in this enchanted woodland, so fair,
The fawn finds its place with grace to wear.

Oh, the magic of the fawn’s first spring,
A tale in the making, on soft hoofprints sing.
In the heart of the woods, where dreams take wing,
A symphony of life, in nature’s grand spring.