Best Fox Poems
Today I found you cornered, drenched in cold,
your fur coat nothing but a newborn's down,
a tiny ball unfolding while I hold
you shivering. Your lacerations frown
and at a distance, I can see the why
of your abandonment, the birds of prey.
I’ve saved you, but you’re causing me to cry:
serrated weapons, Nature’s passion-play,
as blood-attracted sharks, still circling, wait:
I sense the breath-starved fright that made you flee,
those teeth, those claws, you were their blameless bait.
You can’t yet comprehend that you are free.
I see the wounds, some healed, some raw and new,
they're deep, beyond the matted fur and skin.
Four little paws, so tender, sprawled askew,
I seem to feel that you and I are kin.
You mark each move. Mistrustful eyes, so green,
incapable of rest, stir to suggest
you'll try to bite if I will try to clean
the bloodclots, so I hug you to my chest.
You flinch to feel my cuddle. Have I planned
some fiendish way to torture you anew?
The tiny space your wretched life has spanned
has taught you only suffering is your due.
Careful now, I’ll wrap you in a cloth,
And whisper words you cannot comprehend.
Oh tiny one, you're no more than a moth!
It’s alright now. You’ve come across a friend.
Your warmth is blossoming against my breast.
I want to teach you gentleness and calm.
There’s nothing here to threaten you: so rest,
You’re safe now from anxiety and harm.
I'll guard you through the night until you sleep,
until the chesty wheezing eases up.
This is protectiveness, it's seated deep:
I’ll always help a vulnerable pup.
Your heart is racing hard against my hand,
awaiting pain, as wizened captives do.
Believe me, Little One, I understand.
For I have been a broken prisoner, too.
***
May 30, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
There once was a fox, as wise as can be,
He lived in the hollow of an old oak tree.
Not so very far from an ol’ Farmer’s Farm;
A farmer he knew would do him great harm.
Also, on that farm lived a lively young goose,
And he caused the fox’s dry mouth to juice.
Without a care, the goose gandered about,
Causing the fox great apprehension, no doubt.
One day they met at the edge of the farm:
The goose knew, for sure, the fox meant him harm.
Mr. Fox, I know you can eat me, he said,
But, I know a better way you can be fed.
The farmer has many an egg you can eat,
and they are more juicy than feathery meat.
I’ll tell you just how to gain your supply;
as quick as a wink, or the blink of an eye.
The farmer is rich and he doesn’t have need
for all of his wealth, and all of his greed.
We poor of the earth, he cares not about:
We should take eggs from the lecherous lout.
Sure, he feeds us, and quite well in fact,
But he profits from the sweat of our back.
We animals are brothers, and should take heed
About each others wants and each others need.
You can sneak around by the ol’ mill gate,
while I distract the hound, down by the lake.
His threat to you I shall circumvent,
and you can then eat to your hearts content.
The sly ol’ fox, he surmised this odd tale:
Hen’s eggs were delicious, he knew quite well.
Oh, this we will do, he quickly agreed:
Eggs, he knew, were quite delicious indeed.
So, the goose set off, the hound to distract,
And also the fox, to the mill gate out back.
But, the goose had another plan in his mind;
A problem solution of a far different kind.
He enlisted the hound in his subversive trick,
To solve the fox dilemma finally and quick.
He sent the hound round to the ol’ mill gate,
Leaving himself to just piddle and wait.
Then suddenly upon him with claw and tooth
Pounced the fox, ‘fore he could honk or hoot.
In this moral lesson we all can deduce,
Why no-one says: “he’s as sly as a goose”.
The SLY fox knew: “If the goose would betray
the farmer that feeds him, he will betray me too.”
Lionel
A fox was a kit and a dog was once a puppy.
Don’t throw a fit, but a fish was never a guppy.
A horse was a colt. And a hen was always a chick.
How about banana split’s scoop, could we call it a lick?
A butterfly was a caterpillar,
A green spotted frog was a polliwog.
A child was a well-loved neonate,
Piglet was once the name of a giant hog.
Fawn instantly tells you something of his age,
Pony is not an indicator at all.
Lamb gives you a wonderful clue so sage.
Animals are delightful to me, big and small.
~SLY FOX~
There you go again little Sly fox P.D.
Another game of tag and jeopardy.
Clever, clever, little fox so bloodthirsty.
Chaos roams through your veins of liberty.
You walk the ground, prancing around your hostility.
Marching down with the dignity of mis-guided anarchy.
I'm gonna hunt you smell end it well.
Hang you up from your trophy tail.
Kiss your night one last farewell.
By morning dawn your foxy tail,
Won't live another tale to tell.
I'm gonna find ya' ~ pull your hideout from where you hide.
Smack you around in your everyday rebellious ways.
Thinking you can defeat my crowd with your lawlessness..
I don't need no hounds to track your unlivable Holy-mess.
You created a selfish character of kindness for the blindness.
You prey on the sheep's and linger on their wall of hopelessness.
Your sinfulness grew from the boldness, and bitterness,
Of growing up parent-less.
My dear Sly Fox are you on alert with your ears of nobleness.
Did you not hear me creeping while you were sleeping.
Sly fox the destroyer!
You are right, you are a mischievous game of hunt!
My trap is set and waiting for you by the river front.
Go ahead, take a drink, pull one last obnoxious stunt.
Run and run, as fast as you can!
You can't out run this one game of Skitty Skat fox hunt.....
~SKAT~
~~ The Rabbit and the Fox ~~ 20 line Ballad
The Rabbit and the Fox
The Rabbit and the Fox are here
go down south, to Australia
They have a bounty on the Fox
Bring in his skin they’ll pay ya
Myxameatosis germ warfare (first ever)
Just for the Bagman's bunny (our ww1 war crazed soldiers lived on rabbit in solitude)
Old Rabbit got mattry eyed
It really wasn’t funny
Great depression in the 20s
We lived on lovely rabbit
skins made the Slouch hat
Our soldiers wear, our habit (fur felt made the hat)
The master took the Rabbit (Squatters said plague)
No more free feeds for us
So we started eating of his sheep
Become a bit nonplussed
They brought another virus out
To kill off outlaw rabbit
But bunny still gets about
The Fox your hens will have it
Don Johnson
Meet the mother - old Miss Jenny
She gave birth to chicks aplenty
(Never dreamed she’d have so many)
But sly Wiley, a hungry fox
Was more threatening than the cocks
Tummy growling, he picked the pen’s locks
As her chicks began to shriek
Jenny pecked Wiley with her beak
And he was dancing chick to cheek
“Aaach!” Wiley cried out loud
As into his fur Jenny plowed
A fox in the hen house -- not allowed
The chicks were saved
They tauntingly waved
Fur a-flying, Wiley got shaved
From the pen fur-free Wiley broke loose
Because Jenny’d cooked his goose
And it was too late to call a truce
*A children’s poem for Gwen’s “Dr. Seuss Is on the Loose” contest.
slinking through the woods
finding camaraderie only from wolves
heartless, relentless, self-absorbed
predator of the vulnerable
devouring her soul
crushing her hopes
devastating dreams
finding satisfaction when she succumbs
the fox knows nothing of love
seeks but conquest
revels in despair of victims
takes her carcass down to the river
washes purity from her tormented soul
she saw feigned promise in his eyes
the fox, the wolf, the demon
who devastates
devours
crushes
while grinning with satisfaction
I crouched behind the tall grass growing
Spied a sly fox galloping towards me
With rapid breath, his ears held high
A hanging tongue, red eyes were glowing
He was hunting....he was wry
I watched him hunt, ...in tall grass growing
I knelt behind the tall grass growing
Saw the rabbit cower lowly
Looking for a rabbit hole
A place to scurry....he must hurry
A rabbit bracing,...hearts were pacing
My own heart was pounding, racing
I hid behind the tall grass growing
Watched the sly fox snatch the rabbit
A witness to the course of nature
I felt the darkness cloud the picture
Overcome by grief and sadness
I sat upon the tall grass growing
I stood up in the tall grass growing
Knowing of the force of nature
I must leave now.....I will grieve now........somehow my own tears are flowing
______________________________________________________________
Contest The Rabbit and The Fox (Inner animal)
Resubmitted and revised for PD's 100 in a ROW contest -- 17
*SILVER TAILED FOX*
silver tailed fox
running from silent trigger
trampled and fell---
~~~
the grasshopper
hops along the fern,
with long legs---
by;p.d.
Eyes furtive carry the reflected sheen of aluminium paint that is smooth a chrome flood
On the tin roof of the woodshed seen, with moonlight awash, awaking the dreaming scene.
The light has the tint of coyote’s hair; the furtive fox is rising to maraud with that
Peripheral stare, the balance tail is curving around a body still turning, his eyes red dots
Burn beside the russet and auburn fur, in the night full deep, guard dog in slumbering sleep,
With a stealthy gait the stooping steep steps you negotiate, around the mottled boulders
Grey you move or even! glide your way. The lightest breeze full on your face, with elegant
Tresses like a filigree trace, to soundless halt you poise your form upon the ledge with its
Girth two pace. Your.. goal in sight about to spring.! with visage grim, the huddled lambs
Sense... sudden..fear! They start to bleat hear querulous tones, the move was neat! Yet P D
Drops down on lightening feet, from her crop of rock with a body shock, she lands on him
With her forked tree limb, his neck is pinned, in her sundown boots she stands on his tail at
The very root, with feral fear his eyes a-glare, how now will the tale of the captured fox ensnared
Unfold? Don’t destroy the tail of this fox caught cold! She could train him as her reddy scout
He has a fine nose plus attuned senses that she alone caught out!.. or better still she could
Keep him well penned perhaps in documents contained, or back to herr schäffer send!
I have come out of retirement ha ha! for P D's inner animal contest .
© JOE MAVERICK 2-01-2011
Remembering days of young- long ago
Adventurous me, I yearned for playtime
Playing with my siblings on mounds of snow
To the peaks of high mountains I would climb
'Neath fallen oaks rotted stumps, I have hid
I used to be so sly and so witty
Down wettened remnants of mudslides- I've slid
'Fore man turned my home into a city
I now live in an abandoned brownstone
Once red-haired and fluffy-tailed; now all grey
For twenty-five years I have lived alone
Inside concrete walls...near the Hudson Bay
One last howl, 'fore I dream into the deep
One last howl, now I lay me down to sleep
Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
1/22/2021
I am careful not to confuse excellence with perfection.
Excellence I can reach for; perfection is God’s business.
Michael J. fox
Michael J. Fox
comic genius as he rattle-talks
Family ties, Secret to My Success, Spin City
Back to the Future…give applause, not pity
2/9/2022
Sworn to secrecy, she told me it had been a long time..
as we sat swinging in a hammock in the late day sun.
'What., are you sayin' you never did it?'
I thought what my mom would do if she caught me, and replied
'brought up different I guess'.
She leaned back into the netting, perhaps chewing on what I said..
half her face streaked in sunlight.
Suddenly aware of her leg touching mine. So warm...
My cotton red racing striped trunks from Sears, with a secret webbed key pocket..her faded OshKosh B'Gosh bibs she wore all summer except on Sundays.
(Sundays were saved for wearing that white & pink pleated Victorian get up she so detested; a gift from her Grandma bought from Macy's mail order catalog)
She ribbed me with her right elbow, as she jumped clear of our swing..
when her mom yelled 'time for supper Kat!' from the front porch.
But she turned back with that dangerous look I'd learned, leaned in close, and licked across all her teeth.
'Milk's colder and better ya know..
drunk straight from the carton.'
She ran inside letting the screen door go with a full slam..!
I thought about all the times we watched Jonny Quest at her house,
eatin' our Quisp or Kaboom with that milk..., and smiled.
I kept Kat's secret safe..,'til just now anyway.
dialogue
Would that love’s touch return on the morrow
ease the coldness of such separation
soft kisses adrift on sunsets aglow
reflect the light of iced desperation.
Temptress or tyrant - lover’s decision
hot tempered vixen – cool, distant player
love in the distance - lust in rescission
hornswoggled by smooth, fast talking soothsayer.
Spring, you sly fox, you two timing cheat
melting the frozen, fueling sun’s blaze
announcing the offspring before lover’s meet
writing love letters in wordless essays.
Sadly the lovers cannot comprehend
Spring’s but a means – to a flowering end.
©2/27/2018
Submitted to – Spring Is In The Air – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Emile Pinet
Once Lived Life As Both Fox And Chasing Hound
Once lived life as both fox and chasing hound
each one thinking, they were true, honor bound.
As the fox, took great pride in being shrewd
failed often to see my actions were crude.
When fleeing forth in life at lightning pace
taking too much as I ran, a disgrace.
Never worried about deep and high costs
figured each cold Winter brought killing frosts.
When chasing old fox, my mind went astray
swearing to catch and eat him every day.
With each new dawn, my hunger more intense
I failed to see myself being so dense.
One sad dawn, I caught that shifty ole fox
his words showed me my big, dark prison box.
Blessed reprieve for him, I did not eat
His wisest move and both our greatest feat.
Once lived life as both fox and chasing hound
each one thinking, they were true, honor bound.
As the fox, took great pride in being shrewd
failed often to see my actions, were crude.
Robert J. Lindley, 3-25-2017
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 200
Total # Words: 164
Note- Inspired by Tim Smith's free verse poem--titled the
-- The Fox And The Hound.--
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_fox_and_the_hound_884102
As I do not do free verse very well, methinks, I went with personification in rhyme and ten syllable verses.
Thank you my friend Tim Smith, for the great inspiration.. your free verse poem and its creativity
and depth inspired this effort by me , written in a much different poetry form.
I hope this poem written this morn, may honor your poem well, as an inspired tribute to it.