In the heart of my garden, under the whispering trees,  
Mr. Fox found solace, a gentle, nurturing breeze.  
Nine weeks ago, he wandered, into this life of mine,  
Tame, yet wild, on freedom's fine line.  

Sleeping 'neath the canopy, all wet and looking sad,  
I thought of beds for comfort, to make his slumber glad.  
Not for me, but for him, this haven I did weave,  
An open door to enter and leave.  

Critics may chatter, their words sharp and sour,  
Misunderstanding my intent, in their judgemental hour.  
But this is not captivity, nor a wish to tame,  
Just a gesture of kindness, in life's harsh game.  

His mate often joins him, in the night's silent hum,  
Together they find refuge, from where they've come.  
My partner and I, a promise we give,  
For years to come, as long as we live.  

In a world so fierce, my only quest,  
Is to offer a bit of peace, a place to rest.  
Elliana Bowers, that's me, trying to mend,  
A bit of the broken, until the very end.  

So, to the critics, I hope you see,  
The heart of my actions, the wish to be free.  
Not to own or to cage, but to kindly share,  
A moment of comfort, in the chill evening air.

March 8, 2024
Created by 
MarkWaldrop