Beneath the silver glow of night, they prance,
Foxes weave through shadows in a mystic dance.
Silent whispers in the forest, soft and light,
Their eyes gleam with secrets, sharp and bright.

In twilight’s hush, their russet fur ignites,
A fiery elegance in the quiet nights.
Each movement a story, each step a dream,
They are the keepers of the moon’s silver beam.

Through the woods, they wander, wild and free,
Guardians of ancient lore and mystery.
In their gaze, the wisdom of ages past,
A fleeting glimpse of a spell that’s cast.

The night is their realm, a world unseen,
Where foxes roam in a realm serene.
Under stars that twinkle in the sky so vast,
They vanish with the dawn, like whispers of the last.