Whispers in the Meadow

In a field of green, where wildflowers sway, Four hens stand guard, in a tender array. Their eyes, like sapphires, shine bright with care, As they surround the egg, their precious share. The grass, a soft carpet, beneath them lies, A haven of peace, where love meets surprised eyes. Their feathers, a mosaic, in shades of gold, Glisten in sunlight, as stories unfold. The hens, a symbol, of nurturing might, Stand watch, a protective, gentle sight. In this serene scene, we find our own nest, A place of warmth, where love is at its best. The egg, a promise, of life yet to be, A miracle, in the simplicity.