The soft blown snow that fell five days ago
Crisp frozen now by these five frosty nights
Still blankets all the fields and moors to show
Where pheasant clattered off on noisy flights
While footfall of the lesser birds is scribed
Less deep; and here a small bank vole has run;
There passed red fox and rabbit side by side
Though time kept them apart and saved the one
At the wo...
Tuesday 5th February 2019 9:53 am
By the light of the full moon
With my look refined and cunning
I will almost make you swoon
Don't treat me as an enemy
Or fear me as a foe
Don't use evil words against me
I'm a well-bred soul, you know
I'm a smooth, suave, refined old chap
A four-legged paradox
Oblige me for a moment, please
- I'm an urbane urban fox
Monday 11th April 2016 9:05 pm
A broken body, matted red,
tossed in the air by wailing hounds.
The quick, brown fox is spinning, dead,
amid the banshee bugle sounds.
The inane braying still abounds
when port is drunk and fables spill,
about the right of man to kill
an animal who, turning back,
stood proud and noble on the hill
and faced the crimson vermin pack.
Friday 25th January 2013 1:22 pm