In the twilight’s gentle embrace, they roam,
Through shadows and whispers, they call home.
Their eyes, like amber, gleam with ancient lore,
Silent guardians of secrets, forevermore.

Amongst the trees, in moonlight’s tender glow,
They weave a dance that only night will know.
Rustling leaves sing songs of tales untold,
Of foxes sly and stories bold.

With swift grace, they tread on silent feet,
In the heart of the forest, where worlds meet.
Their fur, a tapestry of autumn’s hue,
Blending with dusk’s ever-changing view.

Oh, mystic foxes of the twilight hour,
Symbols of wisdom, grace, and power.
In your presence, nature’s magic is clear,
A timeless dance, forever held dear.