In the whispering woods where shadows play,
A gentle figure moves with grace.
The deer, with eyes that hold the day,
Glides through the forest, leaving no trace.

Beneath the canopy of emerald green,
Its delicate hooves tread soft and light.
The leaves rustle softly, almost unseen,
As it wanders through the twilight.

Its antlers rise like a crown of gold,
Majestic in its quiet reign.
Through seasons young and seasons old,
The deer remains, through sun and rain.

Oh, keeper of the forest deep,
With spirit wild and heart so pure,
In your presence, the secrets sleep,
Of nature’s beauty, fierce and sure.