Tiny Lands
In the mushroom's whispering shade,
Where ferns unfurl, and moss is made. A tiny realm, both vibrant and still,
Unfolds its secrets, to the gentle hill.
From this low vantage, blades of grass preside,
Like emerald spires, where dewdrops reside,
A snail's slow journey, leaves a trail of light,
As it navigates, the intricate, underground night.
A frog's bright eyes, like lanterns aglow,
Watch from the underbrush, as the world below,
Unfolds its mysteries, in this hidden place,
Where the mushroom's cap, a tiny sky, embrace.
In this small world, magic is not something grand,
But the quiet beauty, of a tiny, hidden land.
- Earthy Mama 🌿


















