Cunning was the little fox
That padded in the lady’s garden
She saw he was a cheeky chap
So his indiscretions she would pardon
She loved to see him dance and play
Basking in the summers heat
And often when he came to stay
Shed leave him out a tasty treat
One day the fox came right inside
And settled sleeping on the sofa
And she didn’t say a word
About the wild interloper
He ate his fill and slept a while
Looking sweet and stirring not
Then when he woke he looked around
Nodded and then off he trot