The Wolf Painter

In summer's glow the forest stay,
Where sunlight dances, bright and gay.
The wolf, with thoughts that twist and twine,
Has dreamed of painting, oh so fine.

Instead of brush, his paw takes lead,
With skill and courage, he proceeds.
The rabbit's tracks upon the ground,
He finds them where the green is found.

The rabbit's swift, a master true,
Yet art can be a tricky view;
The wolf attempts to catch the sight,
But time is fleet, and day turns night.

He paints the rabbit, fluffy and meek,
While brother long-eared holds his peak.
The artist strives, the warm light seeks,
His canvas blooms with summer's peaks.

Each stroke inspired by nature's charm,
The wolf creates with steady arm.
It’s hard to grasp, yet bright and clear,
He finds a love for rabbit dear.

And now upon the canvas laid,
Not just a rabbit, but a brave charade.
Above, the skies in azure beam,
The rabbit's portrait - a real dream.

The wolf, now the artist known,
Portrays the creatures in the forest glow.
Each stroke a tale, each shade a song,
Creating worlds where all belong.