Bad Hare Day

Bad Hare Day

In a meadow where the daisies sigh,
A clumsy hare decides to try
A hop that’s off‑beat, a leap awry—
He lands in puddles, mud and sky.

His ears, once perky, now droop low,
His whiskers twitch in wobbling woe.
He trips on roots, he slips on stone,
A hapless romp he’s all alone.

The birds all chirp a teasing tune,
The fox just watches, eyes like moon.
Even the tortoise, slow and sage,
Shakes his shell at this hare’s outrage.

Yet in the mess of soggy grass,
A grin erupts—he’s keen to pass
The test of tumble, slip, and fall—
For every tumble makes him tall.

So cheer the hare on his bad‑hair day,
When muddy paws lead to a brighter way.
For stumbles sweet and soggy fun
Are the very hops that victories have won.