Fable of the big-little (Fairy tale)

i

Once upon a time, a kid got lost,

From his house he embarked on a trip

Into the woods armed with his stick,

Biting it off and hanging from his lip.

His backyard connected with the forest,

Sneaking away through the harvest,

Jumping the hurdle and crossing the lagoon,

Alone in the woods he found himself soon.

The young man wasn't afraid to be alone,

To flora and fauna raised his cheekbone,

Already he had got lost once,

To be with his mother, he felt the long-ing,

But he measured it with his bravery,

To otherwise name his stupidity.

The carved, dead trees seemed to never end,

Staring at him like a forever lost friend,

He made his way up and down,

Circling a glade with the grass all grown,

He felt happy inside this living lawn,

Thinking of this place as a secret of his own.

He placed the stick into the dirt,

To never from his place disconcert,

Freely, he got naked, laughing and running all over,

The sun lighting him brightly and the trees as his cover

He did not notice a mile away, the Rover,

Who thought of this place, to be the owner,

But the kid kept on it until the lagoon again found,

Seemed to be deviating on a perfect round.

So he followed by the waterside,

Splashing in this river with great pride,

Until he passed right below a bridgework,

The water floor made him snork,

So he went to the side and started climbing up,

The task was easy, thanks to the trunks on rack.

Raising through the branches, and serving himself

With the barks protruding several inches,

He sat on the middle of the bridge, a dragon-fly

Sat on his hand, and he tried to catch;

Following it to the other side, the bridge ended on a cliff,

And for once he got afraid and stood stiff.