Along the hills and valleys of the shire,
Through copse and field and unsuspecting farm,
Uncowed by Grim, or haughty country squire,
The master of the cunning plan is stalking.
With floating tail receding in his wake,
A totem of his præternatural charm,
He hoists his colours on life's fickle stake,
Defiant in the paths that he is walking.
With flourish to the right and circle to the left,
He moves around his world like warp about the weft,
In graceful stride, with movement, bold and deft,
Immersed in artful strategy and wisdom.
With vixen for a bride and pups to feed in den,
He ventures through a land usurped by selfish men;
With steadfast heart, he roams on fell and glen,
The undefeated monarch of his kingdom.