Creative Corner: The Three-Tailed Fox

 

Have you ever heard of the three-tailed fox?

No?

Of course not!

And here’s why…

In the days before man had captured light,

Long before man had made clouds from stone workshops,

There was a small little village,

All covered in green,

Where some worked in fields,

Some cut wood,

And others grazed cattle.

It was a simple life,

But it was a good life.

That was until the day

Where some venturing villagers

Stumbled upon

A fox with three-tails.

He could sing,

He could dance,

And he could perform great stories,

Pretending to be different characters.

The villagers were astounded.

Such a marvellous creature!

One of the villagers

Asked the fox,

‘How are you so talented?’

The fox replied,

‘Each tail. without fail,

Grants me such a gift:

One for acting,

One for dancing,

One for the rift… of song.’

The villagers grew jealous;

Eyes turned a new shade of green,

Not tint of grass but sparkle of emerald,

One man in particular

Plotted that night

To catch the fox,

And cut off his tail.

‘Oawwwwwwww!’ The fox did wail.

The man made a hat from the tail,

And then,

From that day forth,

He could charm people

With great acting skill,

To lead them where he…

…did will.

 

The next night

A woman approached

And cut off another of the fox’s tails.

His wails and screams could be heard by all.

The woman made a scarf from the tail.

And then,

From that day on,

She could lead herds,

Herds of people,

By dance.

They would follow

With just a glance.

 

The next day

Both the man and woman returned,

For they could lead,

Make others follow,

But they had found their talents hard to swallow …

‘Sorry fox, but we need your song

To cover up all that we do wrong …’

And so,

They cut his last tail,

And this time,

He didn’t even bother to make a sound.

They made a pair of gloves,

And wore one each,

So they could sing

To those they preached.

They made them smile,

For only a while,

But long enough to complete their deed.

All seemed great,

All seemed fine,

Until greed,

As it always does,

Consumed them.

Left them so blind,

They did not see,

The fox,

So angry,

Had escaped his captors

And summoned up

A great big fire,

Which did engulf,

And burn the village down.

No matter how repressed,

How pushed down,

How squashed,

Or battered the fox was,

He still had a fire burning within,

That devoured all it would touch.

 

So heed this tale as a warning,

Of misuse, abuse and greed.

That the fires of rebellion erupt,

When those who control

Attempt such a deed.

 

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Blaidh Nemorlith is a children’s author. He has been writing contemporary poetry for twelve years and has featured on various sites and in numerous competitions and contests. Blaidh's books can be bought here: Blaidh's Tales.

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