Thursday, October 18, 2007

A Poem for Susan



The Hares and the Fox

Now let me sing of the tale of the hares and the fox. In a    wood, by a
Lake lived a hare and his wife. They had small ones about,    and a nice, quiet
Life, with no foxes to chase them, destroy them and eat    them. The hare thought his
Wife was attractive and pretty: he loved her and loved all his    wee ones, too.

Hare, it was, said to his wife, “Shall we leave and go walking    and see all the
Sights this great wood and the lake do afford us?” She said,    “Let us walk in the
Wood, and we'll leave all the wee ones behind, lest they stray    and be lost in this
Great, though quite beautiful wood.” So they left them    behind, and began their walk.

Sunny, it was, in the fall of the year; the long lake shimmered    brightly, and
Trees whispered lightly, and clouds floated past them on    water of blue. All the
Earth seemed to smile on the hare and his wife, to rejoice    that such love could be.
Nothing, it seemed, could quite darken their aspect. Enjoyed    their long walk they did.

But, in this great wood, a fox lingered on, driven by all his    hunger, he
Slinked round and round, hunting food, for he knew that the    winter was coming fast.
Spied he the hare and his wife, for their paths chanced to    cross; but the eyes of the
Hare were remarkably bright, and the hare saw the fox at the    same moment.

“Run,” said the hare to his wife, “And I'll hope that the fox    will pursue me and
Leave you alone.” So they split into two diff'rent ways. Now    the hare was a
Hair larger than his sweet wife, so the fox thought the hare    was the better catch.
Off he went, and chased the hare quite as fast as he could.    And a chase it was!

On went the fox chasing hare. But the fox had more speed    than the aging hare.
Gained he the hare after ten minutes' chase, and he bit off    one hare's leg, and
Settled down for the remainder; the hare could not run any    farther. But
As fox began to tear into his flesh, the old hare smiled a    smile of love.

For while he'd never see wee ones again, nor would wife    nuzzle up to him
Close in the wood, they would live, by his sacrifice. Word    got around to his
Wife, of the death he had died that he might give her life.    And she wept for a
Time, missing him; but his joy cometh in the sweet morning,    and she lived long.


 
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3 Comments:

At 10/23/2007 10:17:00 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Huh?

 
At 1/17/2008 09:35:00 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Are you going to update this blog???? Curious how you are feeling about being a father.

 
At 3/22/2008 06:19:00 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Have you disappeared?

 

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