Vulpes Vulpes

Vulpes Vulpes



Silent, swift, sharp, and sly

In the den or out to lie,

The vulpine creature, so rusty red

Sits in wait, for it must be fed.

Ears erect and eyes like a cat,

This vixen spots where the rabbits at.

Creative, clever, crafty, and cunning,

The beauty of the hunt is simply stunning.

Persistent and mindful of all around,

Nothing sees vulpes creep 'cross the ground.

The noble stalker makes her move

Yet her effort seems as if not to prove.

The rabbit darts, escaping none too late.

Yet another fox has been lying in wait.

Snatch! The pointed muzzle clamps down.

Across the forest, echoes a frightening sound.



Now all the den is filled with glee and joy,

The animals' wisdom having been employed.

A wondrous feast for the strategic foxes and kits,

But out in the cold of winter, a hunter sits.

For the soft red coat and white tipped tail

Will serve the hunter well, if he doesn't fail.



Oh the body of an arrow! Straight, tightly aimed.

The passion and desire; ambition that cannot be tamed.

Ode to the persistent, sacred, and myth,

The hunted secretive creature, never forthwith.

The barks, the cries, the howls, chirps, and yips,

The narrow head with all frosted black tips.

The timid and wary and hesitant thing

Makes all the forest gleam and all trees sing.



Bang! A shot fires and all goes silent.

Joy fades from the woods, all so violent.

Vulpes, must you go now when all seems so right?

No. The fox evades the shot and slips into the night.

So ends the tale of the stunning red fox.

But look carefully, for the vulpes still stalks...