A Fox's winter's tail
I am the cunning Fox - Renard is my name
I roam around Bockmer looking for game
Rabbits, guinea pigs and chickens will do
And my favourite meal is a duck or two.
Then one day I saw three lovely ones all in one go
Standing on their pond and deep in the snow
I thought that evening a duck for dinner would be nice
It'd make a change from eating squealing rats or mice.
So around midnight I planned my attack
To creep slowly around the back
I cleaned my teeth, I licked my lips and brushed my tail
I knew my plan was watertight and therefore could not fail.
It was cold and the snow so thick
As I set off to carry out my dastardly trick
The moon was full, bright and clear
Then as I approached cautiously from the duck house quacking I could hear.
I had to get close, I had to peek and see
Which one of these lovely birds would fill my hungry tummy
I was nearly there- whiskers away so to speak
When the floor gave way a tremendous creak.
I held my breath and closed my eyes
Hoping nothing was heard from those inside
Three beautiful ducks asleep, gorgeous, fat and ready for taking
Never, never again would they be waking.
Or so I thought.
I should have listened, I should have waited
And prepared to strike with my heart beat much accelerated
I wriggled my hips, I wriggled my bottom
And the creaking sound was soon forgotten.
Just then one of these beauties woke up and saw me about to attack
Opened its beak and made a most frightening loud ‘QUACK'
Everyone jumped - not least me
The next thing I knew I was hanging from a tree.
I gritted my teeth and then started to pray
Then heard the faint sound of the branch slowly give way
It's funny how life flashes in front of your eyes
Knowing that soon you may be about to die.
With an almighty crack the branch broke and I was no longer dangling in the breeze
‘Oh no' I said, and gave the branch a tighter squeeze
Too late, I was tumbling and turning; I closed my eyes, I held my breath
Waiting for the inevitable, waiting for death.
Then suddenly I found myself wrapped in something soft and warm that smelt so foul
I opened my eyes, I had landed in - guess what - an enormous deposit of cow.
Now we foxes are known to be silky, red and clean
Not like some movie monster whose looks are sometimes quite frightening and obscene.
So to save my coat and my pride as well
I ran quickly as if being chased by the hounds from hell
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
Added by Poetry Lover
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