My Socks and a Curious Fox

I was sat on a rock adjusting my socks, And what did I see, but a curious fox. Who was most surprised, probably I, So there we sat, both having a spy. He cocked his head in a quizzical style, I blew a little whistle, and gave him a smile. His ears pricked up, He sniffed at the air, He slowly stood up, as if I wasn't there. A fine fellow he in his red livery, Standing there posing, as if to say "look at me." He gave a great yawn, for he had been sleeping, Not expecting to wake to such a strange greeting. Then he was off, the encounter was done, Rarely had a walk met with such fun. Who'd have thought while pulling up my socks, I'd have a meeting, with a curious fox. Entry for CONTEST NO 550,any form,any theme, Up to a max of 20 lines Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand. 30/1/19. Placed =1st.