Rosie

In a garden, small and neat,

Lives a hedgehog, soft and sweet.

They call her Rosie, round and bright,

With quills that shimmer in the light.

Rosie scurries, tiny paws a-tap,

Nose sniffing for a tasty scrap.

Apples, berries, she loves to eat,

Under the moon, and sun's warm heat.

Her quills stand up, a spiky dress,

But Rosie's heart is pure, no less.

She curls up tight when dangers near,

A little ball, without a fear.

Children watch with eyes so wide,

As Rosie finds a place to hide.

But when the night turns dark and deep,

She'll softly snore, curled in a heap.

So, in the garden, if you see,

A hedgehog as cute as can be,

Remember Rosie, our friend so dear,

With quills that sparkle, year to year.