Wild fox

Look at me
I am what I am
A wild soul of the field
Created as you all were
On this earth to wield
My blessed life before you
And a family hopefully
Up against the hunters
And the terriermen
Who be
Out there causing mayhem
And a general apathy

I have a realization
That our evolution must
In actuality be caused
Its undeniably unjust
To perpetuate our being
And then to chase us down
To hunt us as if criminals
With your louts from out of town

We are the enchanted ones
And stealthily we creep
With an ability to melt away
And in our earth homes sleep
We are neither ghost nor phantom
We are flesh and we are blood
We feel pain as you feel pain
And Will meet you in the mud

We feed at night
And do delight
In keeping well away
Of course From you human types
Whose constant gripes
Is trying to make us pay
We sometimes use old marl pits
Rather than build anew
We let the others make our homes
It just is what we do

We walk lightly on this shared earth
More so than BRUIN who
Clamps his feet down in the mud
More so than we do
We really hate to deviate
If there is a path then we
Follow it exclusively
Its easier you see

Field margins they just make sense
And reduce the enemies too
Altogether its easier
So it makes our dreams come true
A to b in quick time
And not waste energy
We are foxes afterall
Not sightseers you see

As for smell we have it
The scents are far and wide
We have sophisticated glands
We take them in our stride
We urinate on certain posts
And gates thats what we do
We communicate with others
We do that all life through

Our scats are sort of dog like
So we have to take care
A lot of humans understand
The dogs and as we share
An Obvious recognition where we let
It go
We have to really understand
The hunter man will know

In January when freezing
We will be out all day
The vixen she will stay in earth
It is hard to say she just seems to prefer this
And that is good as well
She can recoup some energy
And our life then can gel

Cubs are born in March
So thats a busy time for all
You won’t see us much in daytime
We really stay on call
The cubs are with the vixen
Thats life apparently
We go to ground the family
And let the children see

We can always hear them and smell them
We forage a lot
Looking for fruit and carrion
The animals sometimes shot
And left to rot in underbrush
But the hunters are the
ones
We watch them and we know they are there
Inspecting our runs

And we remain ilusive
We have to run away
Caught by hounds and torn to bits
Is not a nice display
And dug out by fhe terrier men
Those evil rotten slobs
Who dig us out and without a doubt
That is when it robs
A fox of all his dignity
Watching his vixen beaten
And possibly his young cubs too
All of them then eaten

Man un kind is clearly blind
His senses are on hold
His heart is just a muscle
An engine thats gone cold
The terror that they perpetrate
All within their law
Is unrelated to reality
Which Apparently they ignore

Blessed are the hunt sabs
The men and women who
Give up their time to assist us
For that is what they do
They have saved a lot of us
The illegal hunts out there
Why they save us we have hope
Otherwise despair

Some of them get beaten up
By the louts that do abound
And some of those bloody hunters
We have watched them from the ground
Rode into the saboteurs
We have seen nose bleeds and much more
And the men in blue are seldom
In the picture too whats more

And sometimes side with the hunters
All outside the law
Then they steal their cameras
All of this and more
And people turn a blind eye
As these heroes do their thing
Women beaten up by guys
Who just like to fling
Punches bloooming everywhere
It really isn’t fair
Thank you sabs human angels
Thanks for being there

And MRS MAY or so we hear
One Of those tory toffs
Is friendly with land owners
And like them she scoffs
At angels saving foxes
And badgers and the rest
Hares and deers and birds of prey
SO YOU SABS YOU ARE THE BEST