The fern grows slowly

Uncurling each delicate frond

Spreading like open hands 

Fingers reaching out with friendship offerings

Shrouded in mist in the crisp early morning

Her leaves soak up the dew

Glistening beads sit on the vibrant green foliage

The sun burns off the mist

The fern allows the beads to evaporate

Tossing the water to the gods of the sky

She yawns as her ferns uncurl more

Producing no flowers or seeds

Animals ignore her most of the time

Apart from the occasional web weaving spider

Who watches her web ripped apart by unfolding fronds

Oh delicate fern of the forest floor

You think you are so beautiful and invincible

Until a herd of deer come along and munch you to ground level

Start again sweet fern

We will watch over you