Hazel the Squirrel and the Missing Tree

An autumn bedtime story

In a forest, soft and bright,
Lived a squirrel, small and light.
Hazel had a cozy tree,
With golden leaves for all to see.

One fine morning, off she went,
To find some nuts, her day well spent.
She hopped and skipped along the ground,
And gathered acorns, round and round.

One nut, two nuts, three nuts, four!
Soon she had a dozen more!
She filled her basket to the top,
Then gave a little happy hop.

But while she searched the forest floor,
The autumn wind began to roar.

Whoooosh! went the wind across the sky,
And all the leaves began to fly!

Red leaves, yellow leaves,
Dancing in the breeze.
Round and round and up so high,
Like butterflies across the sky.

At last, when Hazel turned around,
She saw the leaves upon the ground.

“Oh, dear! Oh, me! Where is my tree?
It had gold leaves for all to see!”

She hurried left. She hurried right.
But every tree was bare in sight!

“Is this my home? Or maybe that?
Oh, goodness me! Where am I at?”

A little owl looked down and said,
“Why such a frown upon your head?”

“My tree had leaves of golden glow,
But now they’re gone! Where did they go?”

The owl smiled. “Don’t be afraid.
The leaves have fallen. That’s how autumn’s made!

Look for the hole, so round and small,
Above the roots, beside the wall.”

Hazel looked from tree to tree,
And then she squeaked, “Oh, look! I see!”

A tiny doorway, round and brown,
Above a mushroom’s spotted crown!

“My home! My home! I’ve found my tree!
It’s still the perfect place for me!”

She climbed inside, her nuts tucked tight,
And curled up warm against the night.

Outside, the leaves went swish, swish, swish,
As stars appeared with every wish.

And Hazel whispered, sleepy-eyed,
“My tree is home, with leaves or none.
Goodnight, dear moon. Goodnight, dear sun.”

The end.

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