This is a poem I wrote about 8 years ago when Dad found a baby hare in our garden.

Fawny-furred and tawny-eyed, As soft as heather is your silky hide.  And such a precious little thing are you And delicate in the same way as glass I am afraid the world in which you bide

Will harm you hideously, for nature’s cruel, And creatures far greater than your prowess rule. Yet, in their circle, you remain a jewel, Your beauty shows of you a treasure true, A shining topaz in the garnet grass.