The Fox And The Hounds Poem by Conal McCarthy

The fox playing in the wood,
Stopped where it stood.
The trumpet sounds,
Starting the hounds.
Through grass and root,
The fox ran astute.

The hounds chased and paced,
As the fox raced.
Through troubled trees,
The fox could squeeze.
Past along the ground,
The fox was found.

Cornered by the hounds,
The fox could see no burial mounds.
The fox could see only victory,
While stating its valedictory.
The fox ran into the hole,
And lived body and soul.

The hounds are furious,
Acting spurious.
The fox was trapped,
The fox was sapped,
The fox's role,

Became a stole.