Hunter Of Foxes Poem by James Walter Orr

My pathway leads around the hill,
Above the valleys where they den.
The notes I sing blend with the rill
That gurgles through the reedy fen.

I see the soft and watchful eyes,
As yet of love I sing my song
And hear the foxes' little cries,
When they decide to tag along.

I hunt my game beyond the light,
Where moonbeams tend to dissipate.
Alert and ready to take flight,
The vixens tend to congregate.

Where honeysuckle scents enthrall,
I sing my songs, along the way,
And often, as the moonbeams fall
A pretty vixen comes to play.