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Little fox, little fox, so lively and free,
Come sit with me, beneath my tree.
Won’t you tell me a story of your adventures,
And teach me of hollows where I cannot venture.
Little fox came to sit beneath my tree,
And when I looked at him, he peeked at me.
And I know that I saw that sly fox grin,
The moment before his story began.
“Little girl, little girl, with the cheeks so rosy,
I come from a den that is warm and cozy.
Where the wind blows through the meadowsweet,
And the Redwood trees stand hundreds of feet.
Where the ground is covered in moss that creeps,
Between the trees to cushion your feet.
And the crag is dotted with hidden grottos,
Where treasures lie hidden within the shadows.
And the brook babbles all night and day,
Its melody chasing my nightmares away.
Oh I wish that you could come and see,
The magical place I call home with me.”
Little fox had left me in such wonder,
Of secrets that lay in the forest yonder.
I closed my eyes to imagine it all,
Redwood trees standing hundreds feet tall,
And the crag with the grottos dotting its wall,
The glade where the meadowsweet grows,
And the den where the wind won’t blow.
And as I pondered I fell fast asleep,
Indulging a dream that was long and sweet.
With a friend that I was lucky to meet,
Just a girl with a fox asleep at her feet.