Short Story - Part 1 - Mr Green Fox & the Vixen.
Short Story  - Part 1 - Mr Green Fox & the Vixen. story stories
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jbo
jbo Live, learn and yearn Twitter@jboMedia
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
The little fox walks not lost. Guided by the shimmering river not a sight of frost. A story book im thinking to continue with. I would be very thankful for feedback. Its quite long for commaful though if you have time that would be great.

Short Story - Part 1 - Mr Green Fox & the Vixen.

The little fox walks not lost.

Guided by the shimmering river not a sight of frost.

Summer has arrived here.

So off for a drink at the lake of the joyful tear.

She looks at her reflection and what she always can see does appear.

Her orange tail fluttering aside her angelic head.

A range of birds sing what needs to be said.

“Your tail is not fat it dances in the wind.

Your nose is not long its perfect for flower scent on the wind.

Your colour is not wrong your fur coat is fuller orange than an orangutan’s toe.

And whiter than the Christmas rabbit dancing in the snow.

Your paws are perfect for chancing the apple; at the top of the tree, normally that is to be for the crow.

Then on the echo of the glistening water another voice begins to flow.

She looks at the Lake and she turned green

Her reflection sings

“Your hair is vibrant like the warmth of a fire for someone as humble as me for such fuller colour I aspire. Just look at me.

To look like you would set me free.

My colour makes people think of greed or jealousy.

Well I guess I envy the colour I see.

If only the birds would sing of the beauty of me.

Though it seems irrefutably green I am to be.

To have the colour of an orange fuller fox is what I want to be.

Not the colour of a Christmas tree.”

She looks up and it’s not her reflection.

She moves closer tail wagging ears tall for inspection.

She walks past wondering where he was from and what direction.

She walks around and past his nose and says in elegant prose.

Whispering your colour on me it grows.

He blushes Jade green and lavishes words of affection.

The birds have gone and there is only them in this section.

Oh, though one bird is watching on free from detection.

Watching the growing affection as they dance and as he catches her and holds her in his arms and paws protection.

Their Love grows in the season when it never snows. Chirps the birds in prose.

“it is not your colour Mr green fox it is your dance and your jade socks.

The way your eyes unlock my heart and the way your spirit is my rock.

Your handsome nature I would not mock.

As you dance on the mountain top.”

“The moon so full you pull me in with the light glistening on your grin.”

He smiles and looks less sad for now the fox is glad. The orange fox and the colourless love they have.

All season he had longed for a kiss his nose waiting and would not miss. Finally, a beautiful enough moment as he had always wished.

As the moon passed the sun and the light was done.

The love bird song was sung.

And all the magic forest animals were there except the foxes were not in sight.

Orange against green they always fight.

That’s why the two foxes kiss noses at night.

The animals hope the futures bright.

As their noses kiss the land turns to white.

Spring and summer had vanished and autumn too.

though Love was not famished and no animal blue.

Though the seasons were gone Love shined through.

As for where to spend Christmas they didn’t know what to do.

“If only all the foxes would do with the colour of you. Mr green fox”

They sit by the ice river and lay on the rock

“if only they could appreciate your jade socks”

Mr green fox replies with a sigh “how could they with golden orange locks”

A fluttering Pond skimmer moves over to dock

“hey their young fox

You must rise above the hate. I float on water and now on ice I skate.

Discrimination is not up for debate, for why for your colour must you wait.

The day we are all equal it shall be great it seems with the fox we still are not able to see a deeper sense of respect and unity.

“Let this be the Christmas of opportunity.” the skimmer does sing

Then lurking lowly in the light of the moon is a moth rising from the chrysalis. Shining glistening.

Every animal is listening. The wings reach and shine in the moonlight. And the moth says “You have the chance to save Christmas tonight.

With that is a wish to end your coloured fur plight. You can have Orange fur the next night.”

The fox’s tails wag, Mr fox begins to brag dreaming of the fuller colour to have her the vixen without fear of the colour of his fur. Though why should that ever deter, Love?

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