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    The Name of The Game PDF

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    Jak
    This poem describes an aging fox as it goes on one last hunt. It reminisces on the fox's youth when it would playfully hunt with its siblings. Now older and alone, the fox must hunt to survive. It manages to steal a chicken from a farm but is then chased by hunters and hounds. Through perseverance and cunning, the fox is able to escape into the woods with the chicken still in its mouth, having survived another day through its skills learned from the eternal game of hunter and hunted.

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    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd

    The Name of The Game PDF

    Uploaded by

    Jak
    217 views2 pages
    This poem describes an aging fox as it goes on one last hunt. It reminisces on the fox's youth when it would playfully hunt with its siblings. Now older and alone, the fox must hunt to survive. It manages to steal a chicken from a farm but is then chased by hunters and hounds. Through perseverance and cunning, the fox is able to escape into the woods with the chicken still in its mouth, having survived another day through its skills learned from the eternal game of hunter and hunted.

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    THE NAME OF THE GAME.pdf

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    This poem describes an aging fox as it goes on one last hunt. It reminisces on the fox's youth when it would playfully hunt with its siblings. Now older and alone, the fox must hunt to survive. It manages to steal a chicken from a farm but is then chased by hunters and hounds. Through perseverance and cunning, the fox is able to escape into the woods with the chicken still in its mouth, having survived another day through its skills learned from the eternal game of hunter and hunted.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    217 views2 pages

    The Name of The Game PDF

    Uploaded by

    Jak
    This poem describes an aging fox as it goes on one last hunt. It reminisces on the fox's youth when it would playfully hunt with its siblings. Now older and alone, the fox must hunt to survive. It manages to steal a chicken from a farm but is then chased by hunters and hounds. Through perseverance and cunning, the fox is able to escape into the woods with the chicken still in its mouth, having survived another day through its skills learned from the eternal game of hunter and hunted.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    You are on page 1of 2

    THE NAME OF THE GAME

    They’d burnt the stubble and trimmed the hedge,


    The wind was getting a cutting edge,
    Bitter too, with the smoke from fires,
    Whining and sighing through the wires.

    Beech leaves fell in showers of gold,


    He was feeling cold - he was growing old.
    Many moons had passed since that first Spring,
    And now he was a weary thing.

    The russet coat was tinged with grey,


    And badly scarred from many affray,
    His joints were stiff, and his pads were sore,
    Yet hunting he must go once more.
    His mate was dead, his children goine,
    But he must go on! He must go on!

    Sunlight sparkled through the trees,


    Dappling the amber leaves,
    Flashes of gold on the forest floor,
    Reminded him of days of yore,
    When he ad his siblings had tried to snatch,
    Every little golden patch.

    The way they’d pounced on leaf and flower,


    Excited by their new found power,
    The wind joined in, and that was good,
    Trembling and fluttering through the wood.

    They leapt on this and jumped on that


    As agile as a hunting cat,
    Speed and timing - they dared not miss,
    Their lives would soon depend on this.
    The skills acquired through play and game,
    Should ensure ‘least one remain.

    Then, when they were a little older,


    And showing signs of being bolder,
    The vixen encouraged their first kill,
    What a thrill! What a thrill!
    Hunted or hunter, that was the game,
    Always it had been the same,
    Kill or be killed was Nature’s plan,
    Here comes wolf! Here comes man!

    Now the thrill was gone, but the game goes on,
    Prey or predator - come along!
    Out of the wood - stay close to the hedge,
    Watch out for the Hunt out there on the ledge,
    Make for the farm, but don’t be seen,
    Beware of the dog - he’s pretty keen.

    The chickens were large, they put up a fight,


    His teeth weren’t good and it hurt to bite.
    The farmer was waiting, he’d cocked his gun,
    Come on old Reynard, Run! Run! Run!

    With the fowl gripped tightly between his teeth,


    His poor heart thumping, he made for the heath,
    The farmer was gone, but he heard the dread sound,
    There was the Hunt, and her were the hounds.
    He heard their hooves, and he heard the horn,
    Was this to be his very last morn?

    He tightened his grip on the bird in his mouth,


    And veering round, he headed south.
    Along the stream to cover his trail,
    The shrieks had faded to a wail.

    Heart bursting, and pads ripped raw,


    Just a bit more, just a bit more,
    The old wood concealed him, home just in time
    And still in his mouth a trophy of crime.

    Hunter or hunted, that was the game,


    And survival, the prize, was his to claim!

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