In a meadow bright, where the sun shone gold,

Young Hudson lived, both brave and bold.

His father warned with a deep bass sound,

“Stay in the yard; the wolf’s around!”

But Hudson, carefree, in a sprightly tune,

Climbed the fence on a sunny afternoon.

Strings played lightly, alive and spry,

As Hudson gazed at the open sky.

A flute trilled high, so nimble and clear,

A bird’s sweet song flew near Hudson’s ear.

“Tweet-tweet!” it chirped in a melody fine,

“Beware of the wolf with his teeth that shine!”

Then from the pond with an oboe’s grace,

The duck appeared, slow in her pace.

“Quack, quack,” she said, her tune forlorn,

“The wolf is near; you’ve been forewarned.”

A clarinet chuckled—a cat prowled near,

Slipping through shadows with cunning cheer.

Soft and sly, she purred her phrase,

While Hudson’s strings danced in playful ways.

But out of the woods, with horns so low,

The wolf appeared, his menace in tow.

A growl, a snarl, his theme so dire,

The brass rang loud like a beast’s dark fire.

The duck cried out in the oboe’s wail,

Waddling fast, her courage frail.

But the wolf leapt close, his jaws open wide,

And the oboe got louder—the duck survived.

The bird fluttered high with the flute in flight,

Distracting the wolf with her notes so light.

Hudson, the strings, wove a daring plan,

To catch the beast with his own two hands.

Climbing a tree with the ropes in tow,

The timpani rumbled, the tension would grow.

The bird darted near with a trill so bright,

While Hudson moved quick in the fading light.

A toss, a pull—the horns roared wild,

But Hudson was clever, a daring child.

The wolf was caught, his brass now bound,

As hunters arrived to the timpani’s sound.

“Let him live,” Hudson’s strings declared,

“Back to the woods, his life be spared.

His tune belongs in the forest deep,

Not here where peace and meadows sleep.”

Father’s bass gave a stern, slow sigh,

As the music softened, the wolf passed by.

And in the meadow, with colors so clear,

The orchestra played for all to hear:

The bird’s flute soared, the cat’s clarinet,

The duck’s oboe theme that we will never forget.

Hudson’s strings danced, triumphant and free,

And the forest sang with harmony.