Guinea and the Fox, part 1

Postman Jim stopped by the farm

To bring the weekly news.

The farmer said my garden grows 

More than I can use

He handed Jim a ‘tater sack

Full of garden stuff,

Tried to give him even more

But Jim said “That’s enough!”

They said thank you, and goodbye,

And have a pleasant day.

Jim picked up his ’tater sack,

And he was on his way

After Jim had finished up

With handing out the mail,

He looked inside the ’tater sack

And found a special tale.

It’s time to let it out of the bag,

So here it is my friends,

Ready or not here it comes,

Our story now begins;

Moonlight sprinkled through the trees,

Giving the farm some light.

The sleepy Farmer was catchin’ Zee’s,

Snoring away the night.

Winter was just around the bend,

Frost was on the ground.

The sun would soon be up again,

Spreading some warmth around.

Thru the farm there winds a creek,

And by the creek is a trail,

On the trail, there walked a Fox

With a red and bushy tail.

Sneaking along the frosty ground,

Doing a little prowling,

Hardly making any sound,

Except its stomach growling.

Upon the hill, a henhouse stood

Where chickens sleep at night,

And to a very hungry Fox,

That’s a tempting sight

Past the house the Fox went creeping,

He crept upon his toes,

Past the hound that lay there sleeping,

A fly slept on his nose.

Guinea the hen was keeping watch

From the branches of a tree.

Very little happens here

Which Guinea doesn’t see.

She sat there knitting chicken sweaters

As night time passed on by,

But still she saw that sneaky Fox

From the corner of her eye.

The Fox was using his pointy nose

To sniff the frosty air,

Guinea surprised the Fox by saying;

“Hey, whatcha doing’ there?”

His toenails skidded to a stop,

Scratching the frosty ground.

He tried to act so not surprised,

By the unexpected sound.

At first the Fox didn’t see the Hen,

And feared the tree had spoke.

He stood there frozen to the ground

As if his legs were broke.

Guinea couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the Fox's eyes,

Any chicken would’ve chuckled, at the Fox's pure surprise!

“There’s no need to be scared of me,” said Guinea with delight

“Everyone knows the bark of a tree is 'rruffer' than its bite!”

The Fox said with his snooty voice;

“I saw you in the tree.

Don’t forget that I’m a fox,

And sneaky as can be.”

On the roost to Guinea’s right

Was Banty the toothless hen.

Half of Banty was still asleep,

But half was awake again.

Banty was just a little ruffled,

And this is what she said;

“Keep it down, you noisy fox,

Or I’ll peck you on the head!”

“Careful, careful”, said the Fox,

“You’re looking very yummy.

The only thing you’ll peck on me,

Is the inside of my tummy.”

That’s when Guinea stopped her knitting,

And tucked her knitting string,

Where she keeps it often times,

Underneath her wing.

“Mind your manners,” she told the Fox,

Or else I’ll wake up Harry.

He’s the meanest hound around,

He’s very VERY scary.

He chews foxes up for breakfast, and saves their bones for lunch.

He’s so quick he has them ate before you hear the Crunch!"

Banty almost laughed out loud. The Fox was showing fear.

Banty scooted close to Guinea, and whispered in her ear;

“Harry Hound couldn’t catch his tail, and hasn’t the brains to sneeze.

He’s no more than a hairy home, for a traveling circus of fleas!”

Guinea whispered back to Banty, “Shush before you blow it!

Truer words were never said, but that old fox don’t know it.”

The Fox was trying to listen in,

He said to the 2 hens “Hey!

You should talk a little louder,

I can’t hear what you say.”

Guinea said “We’re trying hard

Not to make a sound,

If you’re smart you’ll whisper too,

Else you’ll wake the hound.”

The Fox began to whisper soft

“I’m very smart indeed.

I know a belly full of food

Is what I really need.

I’ve heard chickens are tasty critters

And really hit the spot,

Better than buttered apple fritters,

And very easily caught.”

“Guinea giggled at the Fox

And said that sounds absurd,

You could sooner catch a horse

Running with its herd.

There are those who’ve eaten chickens,

But it’s really just a fad.

Those who’ve tried them all agree,

They’re finger licking bad.

Chickens taste like clumps of dirt,

Plus, they’re full of bones.

You’d be better off my friend

By eating a bag of stones.

You seem pretty smart to me,

Why take chances with dogs?

What you really ought to do

Is feast on tasty frogs!”

The Fox began to lick his lips,

He said, “Did you say feast?”

“Yes, I did” replied the Hen

“A feast to say the least!

Frogs sit on their lily pads 

Like kings on thrones that float,

Daring any hungry fox

To get across their moat.

But there’s a clever little trick

Which makes ‘em easy to get,

You could simply take your pick

And never even get wet.”

The Fox continued to lick his lips,

He said “Oh tell me please,

Tell me your clever little trick

For catching some of these.”

Guinea paused for special effect,

Just to make him wait,

Happy the Fox had took the hook

And swallowed the tempting bait.

Even Banty was eager to hear,

And looking Guinea’s way.

After a moment, here’s what Guinea

Finally had to say;

“No other critter, feathered or furred,

Has learned this up till now,

But since you said the magic word

I’m going to tell you how.

Here it is my foxy friend,

The secret I’ve been keeping,

The way to catch a mess of frogs

Is trick them into sleeping.

The way to trick them all to sleep,

Every frog around,

Is ease yourself out by the pond

And make a chirping sound.

Just keep chirping, I’m not joking,

Tho it may sound boring,

Soon the frogs ’ll stop their croaking,

Then they’ll all start snoring!

The sleeping frogs won’t come to you,

That would be quite silly,

But you can step across the pads,

From lily to floating lily.”

The Fox was feeling fairly famished

And eager to be on his way,

He said to Guinea, “Where’s this pond

Where all those critters stay?”

Guinea said “I have a game

of which I’m very fond,

If you’ll answer a tricky riddle

I’ll direct you to the pond.”

Replied the Fox, “I’m good at games,

And oh, so ready to play.

Let me solve your silly riddle

And I’ll be on my way.”

The knitting hen paused again

To choose the perfect riddle,

One to tease the Fox’s brain,

But only just a little.

“Here’s a good one,” Guinea said,

“The toughest one around.

If you’re smart you’ll solve it quick,

Before I wake the hound;

    It’s half as tall as it wants to be,

    But twice as tall as you think.

    It doesn’t have to lift a finger 

    To get itself a drink.

    It doesn’t have a finger to lift,

    But here’s the funny thing;

    Every single year it lives,

    It makes itself a ring.”

Banty knew the answer quick,

And almost gave it away.

Guinea had to tell her “Hush!

It’s the Fox’s turn to play.”

    “Here’s a little hint,” she said,

    “It’s right in front of your nose,

    And every year it always leaves

    But never ever goes.”

(Story continues below) 

Finally, the Fox figured it out,

“It has to be a tree!

That was simple,” said the Fox,

“Simple as can be.”

Guinea said, “You got it right!

You’re really very smart.

I’m no match for you my friend,

So now I’ll do my part;

On the other side of the farm,

Beyond some old dead logs,

Lies a special hidden place;

The pond with all the frogs.

Cross the creek and climb the hill

And find the fence of stone,

Follow that to find the tractor,

Sitting all alone.

In the Spring, the Farmer drives it 

Almost every day,

But now its tires are out of air,

And fenders rust away.

Keep on going ‘round the bend

And find the crying tree,

She’s a poor old Weeping Willow,

Sad as she can be.

She cries ‘cause Winter’s almost here,

Along with the cold it’ll bring.

She drops her leaves like many a tear,

But grows them back in the Spring.

Near that tree you’ll find a trail,

The one the animals made,

It’ll lead you thru some woods,

But don’t you be afraid.

It’s just a neighborhood of trees

Where many families stay,

It’s the hill where they grew up,

And all their seedlings play.

On the other side of the woods

You’ll see the jam of logs,

Then you’re just a chirp away 

From feasting on the frogs!”