The Dear Deer... [Rhyme Pattern Workshop]

As I sit upon the ground
I watch the fog in field
Not much to see, as I look around
Until the mist begins to yield

Now, I see a herd of hooves
A dozen heads and nibbling lips
I'm very careful not to move
Though there's a pain in my hip

Heads with twitching, swivel ears
Dip to pull the grass
Then back up to disappear
In the fog that dewdrops cast

The sun begins to heat the earth
The grey does slowly fade
My patience is rewarded...worth
The effort that I've made

Now, the deer are staring hard
They're nervous, stamping in the sward
What is that there, in their yard?
It's only me... the silent bard