Where darkness met daylight,
On the cutting edge of dawn,
Come one early frosty morn,
A mother lost her fawn.
Into the forest she eased,
Her head frantically paced,
“I cannot find my baby,
“I cannot find a trace.”
She wandered through the meadow,
She followed a bu*terfly,
The morning sun had beamed,
The sun had blinded her eye.
The bu*terfly danced from one bulb to another,
She pranced while following from behind,
The mother stopped but just for a moment,
“Oh where, Oh where is that baby of mine?”
Over the hill and down through the valley,
The bu*terfly had flown.
A little fawn had begun to wonder,
"Did I lose my home?".
“No! I am not lost I know my way,”
Said the little fawn, as she shook off the chill,
She stared off into the sunset,
Her mother peeked from over the hill.