Rachel+Baxter-Green's+tale

__The Maiden’s Tale__

Walking through the forest green one day late

In summer’s gentle warmth[1], with relaxed gait

A maiden with soft eyes and hair of thatch[2]

Came across a vixen in the briar patch,

Stuck within the thorny vines quite badly.[3]

The[4] maiden took pity on it gladly,

And freed the prisoned vixen from her cage.

The fox professed her thanks in words so sage

They startled the maiden, and promised her

Good fortune, and guard from any bother. The woman accepted her just reward,

And took the cunning vixen as her ward.[5]

The vixen and the maiden soon became

As thick as thieves, and acted quite the same:

Playing tricks on those they knew deserved it.

But alas those tricks could not preserve it.[6]

For the maiden was soon wed ‘gainst her will

To a husband who knew naught but to kill.

This old brute, so awfully she despised [7]

That she and the vixen would oft surprise

Him with tricks and traps, things of mal intent.

His hatred towards them both this did cement.

The fox, however, he found most vile

So after enduring their tricks a while

The hunter, his heart dark, his thoughts blood-red

Made up a plan to take the vixen’s head. [8]

And so one night when spring was nearly up

And the vixen had gone to catch her sup

The hunter set out a torturous snare

Not fit for any partridge, any hare,

But specially designed to catch a fox

A tricky creature, the bane of latches, locks;

A thing unable to be captured, so

It seems, by any but brambles that grow,

As the maiden so long ago found out,

Still the hunter set his cruel trap about.

All through the night he waited without yawn

Until around the very break of dawn,

When in the tangled undergrowth he saw

A dark red-whiskered, sharp-toothed little maw

Nosing out, about to sit herself down,

When suddenly a net came tumb’ling down

And trapped her where she stood. And it was there

He turned the ground the color of her hair.[9]

All day the hunter worked his gruesome piece.

Carving and cutting, not once did he cease.

And when at last the sun had quit the sky

He went inside, a cruel glint in his eye.

All day the maid had waited patiently

For the fox to come, and for them to flee.

Food was on the table, getting colder

When in came the man, and round his shoulder

Hung the pelt of her faithful vixen friend

Like a cape, mouth clasping tail. A cruel end.

She stood there, still, alone, trying not to weep

As she saw her friend there in endless sleep.

The hunter smiled wide in a cruel jape.

“How do fancy my brand new fur cape.”[10]

He asked his wife as he laughed at his gain,

While she herself was enveloped with pain.[11]

“I made it from that pesky fox” he said

“It brought me suffering, and now it’s dead.

Now come! Let us celebrate the demise

Of the creature I have come to despise.”

But as he spoke these words, his evil gloat

The crimson fox fur tightened ‘round his throat.

Slowly it wrapped around and ‘round

Until he could no longer make a sound.

And finally his final breath he drew

And choked to death, his lips turned lifeless blue.

The maid sat there, puzzling what transpired.

She was free, she had what she desired.

But her new freedom, was it worth the price?

The hunter’s broken neck for her friend’s life?

She stood up for a moment, still unsure,

When her eyes were drawn back down to the floor.

The fox pelt ‘round his neck began to stir,

As if something was moving in the fur.

Then suddenly the mouth was opened wide,

And a silver form emerged from inside.

It gathered for a moment in the air

Until it was her vixen floating there.

“My friend” the spirit said “I’m sad to go.

This was not my intention, you should know.

But it seems that I have had the last laugh

So don’t you pain yourself on my behalf.

You have shown me these past years your cunning,

Wit, and trickery, they have been stunning!

And so I have seen that you do deserve

The special purpose that you will now serve.

To wreak havoc on those who deserve it

And utilize your cunning and your wit

And so my last trick I will play on you.”

With that the silver spirit split in two.

And covered the maiden from foot to head;

And whirled until a fox stood in her stead.

And so the girl, a maiden never more

Flicked her tail and ran through the kitchen door.

Long after that, the village people said

Those who deserved it would find themselves dead.

And though she was never seen there again,

She could be found inside the fox’s den.

[1] Personification [2] Metaphor [3] Complex sentence [4] Variation in sentence openers [5] Compound sentence [6] Variation in sentence lengths [7] Poetic word order reversal [8] Compound-complex sentence [9] Imagery (visual) [10] Simple sentence, interrogative sentence [11] Appeal to pathos