Although the night was cold
And the rain poured down
The crafty old fox, still felt bold.
He put up with the weather
Because he thought he was clever.
So, he conjured up a plan –
Living nearby was a horse called Gift.
The fox kept his eye, on the horse for a while
Whilst licking his lips – he was hungry, they were dry.
The horse was as fit as a fiddle
Because of the grass he ate - healthy greens.
The fox with white socks and red fur
Could also eat grass but meat he preferred
He ran up the hill in for the kill.
Cockey, confident and completely undeterred
It caught up with the horse which wasn’t hard.
But the red-furred mammal had taken a gamble:
Gift was gifted in pre-empting trouble.
The crafty old fox looked him straight in the face
He once again licked his lips, but the horse was braced
Braced for the moment he could be bitten.
Gift was sturdy but the fox was at first smitten.
The tables were turned because Gift was swift
He dug his teeth into the fox beneath.
The fox looked up to him, as a sign of respect
Once bitten, twice shy – a defence effect.
Gift went north, and the fox’s pride went south.
Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth!