“A dog who met a porcupine”

In the dappled woods where the birches lean,  
A curious dog, all glossy and keen,  
Nosed through bracken, tails up high—  
When a spiky surprise caught his eager eye.

A porcupine waddled with prickly grace,  
Quills waving lightly in woodland space,  
Unhurried, unbothered, a slow rolling pine,  
Glistening needles in the bright sunshine.

The dog, ever friendly, bounded ahead,  
Dreaming of playmates, stick games, and bread.  
But he yipped and he danced, uncertain, amazed—  
For this odd little creature did not want to play.

With a wag and a sniff and a hopeful bark,  
He circled the porcupine out in the park.  
But the creature stood firm, with a caution so wise:  
“No hugs today, friend, just passing goodbyes.”

The dog learned quickly, not every new face  
Is meant for a bouncing, run-around chase.  
He backed up softly, respect on his mind,  
A lesson in kindness: Be gentle, be kind.

So, nose un-prickled and dignity fine,  
He wandered away through the whispering pine,  
With a tale for the ages, and wiser for time—  
The dog who met gently the porcupine.

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