Sweet sounds of the Lark song fade, as day draws to its end.

Dips his beak into the pond, needing a drink.

Ever watchful for the ferret, which can savagely descend

to take his life before his tiny eye could blink.

from deep inside the darkening wood come the sounds of play,

badgers gleefully greeting the cavernous night.

Clown-like faces, so comical by day,

sniff the deepening gloom with obvious delight.

An enemy is close at hand, with fangs that whisper death,

Yet the badgers lead him on a merry dance.

This foe has fiery, fearsome eyes, ans evil, fetid breath,

but the lone wolf in the trees has little chance.

The moon glows softly, overhead,the darkness incomplete,

and the silent forest whispers in the breeze.

A thousand creatures fill th night with countless tiny feet

navigating deepest gloom with consummate ease.

Thier noses are thier lifelines, what they cannot see they smell

and every scent tells tales that simple vision never could.

The fight for life is endless, like the stories you can tell’

of nature’s struggles, each night in the wood.