it is a pale yellowish brown colour. A young deer is also called a fawn! When an animal fawns upon you, the animal is friendly with you ..well this is all i can think about the word fawn at the moment
Fawn rhymes with yawn therefore I shall write about yawn. Don’t ask me why. It’s just that I just finished yawning and I don’t really have anything to write about fawns. I’m sleepy therefore I yawn. I’m bored, I yawn again. I see someone yawn, I yawn once more. Do you do that, too? ‘Cause I’m sure I do.
I remember a beautiful fawn, running around in the wild.
Its colour, its eyes, its way of looking at the world.
Completely obliviant to the hardship of adulthood.
Oblivious to the dangers.
I fawned at his beautiful features. The way his hair cascaded over his eyes…the way his lips moved apart and together as he formed my name. I was in a daze, but came back to my senses just as he said the words: “Baylee, I’m moving away from here. Tomorrow.” And then I lost it.
I was walking in the highlands of Scotland on a misty Sunday morning, I came across a young injured fawn, my friend at the time, James, told me to go to it and see if it was okay, I did, I rolled the poor creature over to see a large gash on the side of the animal. I was shocked, I couldn’t move, the poor thing was still alive, clutching at each breath, my friend then came up behind me and pushed my head into the wound, my mind was inside the fuckingfawns stomach! My friend James is a nob.
I fawned at his beautiful features. The way his hair cascaded over his eyes…the way his lips moved apart and together as he formed my name. I was in a daze, but came back to my senses when he said “Baylee…I’m moving away from here. Tomorrow.” And then I
Ha. I just learnt this word today. It means to flatter someone intentionally for some non-proper intentions. I guess.
Ok, I have seen a lot of these people and i think i have gotten used to it. In fact, now i do think everyone need to do that inorder to acheive something in our lives. It is neccessary. which I didnt do before and so my life now is not as well as i expected . Ha.
My favorite movie as a kid was bambi and this reminds me of innocence and purity and how lovely kids see the world when now we are kind of just jaded beyond recognition. I want to be bambi again. I think if everyone looked back to their favorite childhood movie they’d be in better shape.
somehow incredible how something that can barely walk in a straight line and looses it’s balance all the time will grow up to move so elegant and skillful. even more incredible the fact that we all can picture it clearly in front of us, since it’s somehow been branded into our heads and yet meetin one in real life, staring in it’s eyes, watching it standing there motionless is just as surreal as dalis elephants.
She fawned over the baby deer as if it were her own child. It’s tawny brown eyes had captured her the moment her own had found them. I mean, how on earth could you say no to big brown eyes like this one has?
daylight breaks on the brink of a horizon that isn’t quite there yet
the fog rolls in and out
in a never ending pattern
and the fawn stands
blinks his eyes
and waits
we are the beautiful dawn that the morning creates, a mixture of hope and mistakes and horrible fate that we have little but complaints to allow us control, isn’t that wonderful, isn’t that just so liberating? you’re a mixture and a fixture but a complete wild card, predictable are those who to shake would to break you.
Fawn… what does fawn mean to me? I don’t know what that word even means… It rhymes with lawn though… But I’m still not sure… It kind of rhymes with fond. Like I’m very fond of you! :) haha! Oh I feel like a retard…. LOL! oh well…. :D Enjoy this quick little summary or w.e this thing is.
like a beautiful dawn we sit and we wait there are stars but i don’t feel they predetermine our fate, they’re just glimmers, gasses and all things that come and pass(es) us… time itself could stop because we are more than time, time stops for no one, we are those who walk and change and move and fix and break, a process of giving and taking. fixing breaking.
There is something primal in all of us. Something primal when we see the babies of others. It is connectedness. It’s an unreal feeling that we are part of great web we don’t quite understand. It is mystery and beauty, truth and ugliness.
I walk towards it, and the fawn just stares. In the wooded area, there is a patch of moss. It provides a soft place for my bare feet to rest. The fawn looks and walks away peacefully.
a fawn i believe is a baby goat. My favourite thing about baby goats is that they are quite delicous on burgers. The best topping for this form of meat is usually a liquid, most commonly the blood of crying orphans. I find it to be a personal favourite dish.
Fawn over me, please. i want cute texts. Post on my wall, make my eyelashes flutterflutter against the wind. Call me beautiful, your pretty little princes, your baby. Tell me you’ll protect me until your bones have wasted away and theres no life left in you. I want to be with you. Now, always, forever.
Everyone fawns from time to time. Whether it be over a woman or a man is up to them. But some of these people don’t go away, and you don’t stop fawning over them. They linger in your heart and mind, becoming the very essence of your soul. They may not know it, but you do. And it is the hardest thing to move on or forget them, even when you are thousands of miles away, they linger.
The fawn rustled the leaves in the forest. The forest was quiet up until that point. The rustling sounds the fawn made were like a rushing of water and the leaves crackled under her feet like thunder. The fawn was unaware of the cacophony. She was focused upon the buried nuts.
I went into the forrest and saw a fawn. It was wounded. It looked up at me with longing eyes begging to be helped, held. I caught myself enough to look around to see that the mother deer had been lying dead in the distance, shot by a hunter i would assume.
The dark grey of the city faded into blue and green as a soft summer field appeared. A brown and white fawn peaked it’s head out of the trees and took a bite of the green grass.
I have no idea what fawn means but whatever it means I hope it is a good thing. A word with a good meaning always makes me feel so much better. Maybe its a bad thing but there’s always an opposite word for it.
Does a fawn fawn over other fawns?
Is it fawn in colour?
I prefer to think they are all half men like little Mr Tumnus.
Maybe they all walk on two legs while we’re not looking.
She fell through the hallway, her hair almost looking speckled as she pranced. Stepping on peoples toes with an almost maniacally happy ‘Sorry, so sorry everyone!’ They didn’t mind. She was their fawn, and no one else’s.
A beast that always sounds magical. The offspring of an enchanted wood. And yet the colour is so un-magical, even boring. Language has a sense of humour, apparently…
A little baby dear, a fawn, was eating grass in a meadow full of dandelions. It was bliss, so peaceful. One of those moments where you think its a dream. It wasn’t though, a dream I mean. It was real. Too real.
a little fawn in the forest with tawny fur and white speckles on her back
a little fawn running from the fire and tendrils of black smoke trailing through her home
a little fawn burning in flames and turning to ash
Bounded across the forest floor, it carried itself with a foolish grace of a fawn. There was no fear, for there was no hunter. There was no hunger, for the was an abundance of food in this untouched land. Into more uncharted lands north it found itself, with a host of several hundreds of assorted furry creatures. Nature was on the advance.
Fantasy bridges reality just like how distraction finds its way into boring routine.
i fawn upon you. i am obsessed over you. but a fawn is a baby deer, is it not? it is, too, adorable. and i will fawn upon the fawn. but i fawn upon you because you are sweet to me. you are sweet, and i like you. i really shouldn’t, but i do. but i shouyldn’t, i should stop now, i should. i am confused.
As the dog runs, the fawn, who is in short of breath tries to run faster, but unfortunately tripped over a bark and was overwhelmed by the enormous hound. He knew dead is imminent and he could do nothing about it. Until a shimmering shining light, white as snow
The fawn slowly bounded past the grove of Juniper trees, attempting to catch its prey unaware. Though he must have made a tiny sound, as the dryad morphed into a Juniper, disappearing with a laugh before he could catch her. Maybe next time.
“Aw,” Elspeth cooed. I nearly wanted to strangle her.
Sure, the fawn was cute. It had those big, doe eyes, staring up at us like a baby’s. But that didn’t mean we didn’t need to eat.
A quick shot, and those big doe eyes weren’t staring at us anymore.
Elspeth’s eyes, instead. “You… you killed it.”
“Yes,” I said, selecting another arrow. “And if you had any sense of self preservation, you would have, too.”
it is a pale yellowish brown colour. A young deer is also called a fawn! When an animal fawns upon you, the animal is friendly with you ..well this is all i can think about the word fawn at the moment
Fawn rhymes with yawn therefore I shall write about yawn. Don’t ask me why. It’s just that I just finished yawning and I don’t really have anything to write about fawns. I’m sleepy therefore I yawn. I’m bored, I yawn again. I see someone yawn, I yawn once more. Do you do that, too? ‘Cause I’m sure I do.
I remember a beautiful fawn, running around in the wild.
Its colour, its eyes, its way of looking at the world.
Completely obliviant to the hardship of adulthood.
Oblivious to the dangers.
I fawned at his beautiful features. The way his hair cascaded over his eyes…the way his lips moved apart and together as he formed my name. I was in a daze, but came back to my senses just as he said the words: “Baylee, I’m moving away from here. Tomorrow.” And then I lost it.
I was walking in the highlands of Scotland on a misty Sunday morning, I came across a young injured fawn, my friend at the time, James, told me to go to it and see if it was okay, I did, I rolled the poor creature over to see a large gash on the side of the animal. I was shocked, I couldn’t move, the poor thing was still alive, clutching at each breath, my friend then came up behind me and pushed my head into the wound, my mind was inside the fuckingfawns stomach! My friend James is a nob.
I fawned at his beautiful features. The way his hair cascaded over his eyes…the way his lips moved apart and together as he formed my name. I was in a daze, but came back to my senses when he said “Baylee…I’m moving away from here. Tomorrow.” And then I
Ha. I just learnt this word today. It means to flatter someone intentionally for some non-proper intentions. I guess.
Ok, I have seen a lot of these people and i think i have gotten used to it. In fact, now i do think everyone need to do that inorder to acheive something in our lives. It is neccessary. which I didnt do before and so my life now is not as well as i expected . Ha.
It’s so sad about Fawn. Did you hear about her roommate? Seduced by some crazy fraternity brothers last weekend. How embarrassing.
My favorite movie as a kid was bambi and this reminds me of innocence and purity and how lovely kids see the world when now we are kind of just jaded beyond recognition. I want to be bambi again. I think if everyone looked back to their favorite childhood movie they’d be in better shape.
fawns are cute.
somehow incredible how something that can barely walk in a straight line and looses it’s balance all the time will grow up to move so elegant and skillful. even more incredible the fact that we all can picture it clearly in front of us, since it’s somehow been branded into our heads and yet meetin one in real life, staring in it’s eyes, watching it standing there motionless is just as surreal as dalis elephants.
She fawned over the baby deer as if it were her own child. It’s tawny brown eyes had captured her the moment her own had found them. I mean, how on earth could you say no to big brown eyes like this one has?
daylight breaks on the brink of a horizon that isn’t quite there yet
the fog rolls in and out
in a never ending pattern
and the fawn stands
blinks his eyes
and waits
we are the beautiful dawn that the morning creates, a mixture of hope and mistakes and horrible fate that we have little but complaints to allow us control, isn’t that wonderful, isn’t that just so liberating? you’re a mixture and a fixture but a complete wild card, predictable are those who to shake would to break you.
Fawn… what does fawn mean to me? I don’t know what that word even means… It rhymes with lawn though… But I’m still not sure… It kind of rhymes with fond. Like I’m very fond of you! :) haha! Oh I feel like a retard…. LOL! oh well…. :D Enjoy this quick little summary or w.e this thing is.
like a beautiful dawn we sit and we wait there are stars but i don’t feel they predetermine our fate, they’re just glimmers, gasses and all things that come and pass(es) us… time itself could stop because we are more than time, time stops for no one, we are those who walk and change and move and fix and break, a process of giving and taking. fixing breaking.
There is something primal in all of us. Something primal when we see the babies of others. It is connectedness. It’s an unreal feeling that we are part of great web we don’t quite understand. It is mystery and beauty, truth and ugliness.
I don’t know the meaning
i dont know what that means.
confused
confused.
confused
unk
unk
unk
unk
wtf
da hewll
hello
I walk towards it, and the fawn just stares. In the wooded area, there is a patch of moss. It provides a soft place for my bare feet to rest. The fawn looks and walks away peacefully.
a fawn i believe is a baby goat. My favourite thing about baby goats is that they are quite delicous on burgers. The best topping for this form of meat is usually a liquid, most commonly the blood of crying orphans. I find it to be a personal favourite dish.
Fawn over me, please. i want cute texts. Post on my wall, make my eyelashes flutterflutter against the wind. Call me beautiful, your pretty little princes, your baby. Tell me you’ll protect me until your bones have wasted away and theres no life left in you. I want to be with you. Now, always, forever.
Everyone fawns from time to time. Whether it be over a woman or a man is up to them. But some of these people don’t go away, and you don’t stop fawning over them. They linger in your heart and mind, becoming the very essence of your soul. They may not know it, but you do. And it is the hardest thing to move on or forget them, even when you are thousands of miles away, they linger.
The fawn rustled the leaves in the forest. The forest was quiet up until that point. The rustling sounds the fawn made were like a rushing of water and the leaves crackled under her feet like thunder. The fawn was unaware of the cacophony. She was focused upon the buried nuts.
I went into the forrest and saw a fawn. It was wounded. It looked up at me with longing eyes begging to be helped, held. I caught myself enough to look around to see that the mother deer had been lying dead in the distance, shot by a hunter i would assume.
Fair
Adams family
Deer
Make a big deal about
Cater young deer
Flowers
Hillside
Grass
Light brown with white fur
Soft
The dark grey of the city faded into blue and green as a soft summer field appeared. A brown and white fawn peaked it’s head out of the trees and took a bite of the green grass.
I have no idea what fawn means but whatever it means I hope it is a good thing. A word with a good meaning always makes me feel so much better. Maybe its a bad thing but there’s always an opposite word for it.
Does a fawn fawn over other fawns?
Is it fawn in colour?
I prefer to think they are all half men like little Mr Tumnus.
Maybe they all walk on two legs while we’re not looking.
My hear is fawn.ok.
“Fawn”
“Faun?”
“Fawn.”
“Lawn?”
“Fawn!”
“Fawn.”
She fell through the hallway, her hair almost looking speckled as she pranced. Stepping on peoples toes with an almost maniacally happy ‘Sorry, so sorry everyone!’ They didn’t mind. She was their fawn, and no one else’s.
A beast that always sounds magical. The offspring of an enchanted wood. And yet the colour is so un-magical, even boring. Language has a sense of humour, apparently…
A little baby dear, a fawn, was eating grass in a meadow full of dandelions. It was bliss, so peaceful. One of those moments where you think its a dream. It wasn’t though, a dream I mean. It was real. Too real.
a little fawn in the forest with tawny fur and white speckles on her back
a little fawn running from the fire and tendrils of black smoke trailing through her home
a little fawn burning in flames and turning to ash
Bounded across the forest floor, it carried itself with a foolish grace of a fawn. There was no fear, for there was no hunter. There was no hunger, for the was an abundance of food in this untouched land. Into more uncharted lands north it found itself, with a host of several hundreds of assorted furry creatures. Nature was on the advance.
Fantasy bridges reality just like how distraction finds its way into boring routine.
i fawn upon you. i am obsessed over you. but a fawn is a baby deer, is it not? it is, too, adorable. and i will fawn upon the fawn. but i fawn upon you because you are sweet to me. you are sweet, and i like you. i really shouldn’t, but i do. but i shouyldn’t, i should stop now, i should. i am confused.
As the dog runs, the fawn, who is in short of breath tries to run faster, but unfortunately tripped over a bark and was overwhelmed by the enormous hound. He knew dead is imminent and he could do nothing about it. Until a shimmering shining light, white as snow
The fawn slowly bounded past the grove of Juniper trees, attempting to catch its prey unaware. Though he must have made a tiny sound, as the dryad morphed into a Juniper, disappearing with a laugh before he could catch her. Maybe next time.