Wading through rotten wood gathered throughout the year Lies a little baby hedgehog and in its eye there’s a tear. In hedgehog talk he pleaded for help and, missing his mum He was set free to walk back cold and lonesome. He arrived home and his mum had missed her only son. She cuddled him while he told her what he had done. She realised her son could have been burned alive at night He was under a pile of wood which could have set alight. She looked at him with all the love in the world and more But her precious little one was fast asleep on the floor.