Nat S Ford (natf) wrote,
Nat S Ford
natf

Written when 8 years old

The little grey hare,
(A leveret he's called),
Sits all alone in the grasses;
So silent he lies there,
In the grass oh so tall,
So quiet that by the fox passes.

A butterfly flits,
And lands near his nose,
It thinks that his eye is a flower;
But the leveret then hits
At a flea on his nose
And the butterfly flies back to flowers.

As quiet as dawn
He sits all alone,
Until, later on in the night-time;
Crossing the lawn
As grey as a stone
His mother comes, saying, "It's playtime."

Out 'neath the moon
They frolic and romp
But mother keeps eyes on the wood's edge,
'Cause she knows that soon
They'll have to stop,
And go back inside, past the gorse hedge.

So when the time comes
To go back inside,
Mother thumps once, twice, and once more.
The dawn has now come
So they must go and hide
In the very long grasses once more.

The little grey hare,
(A leveret he's called),
Sits all alone in the grasses;
So silent he lies there,
In the grass oh so tall,
So quiet that by the fox passes.
Tags: nsf_writing
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