Ghosts are like foxes on the prowl,
Slipping through the night, not a sound to be heard
Stalking the shadows, not a soul around
The darkness around them, yet still they're not scared

Foxes are like ghosts in the night,
Moving ever so silently, not a single sound
Through the darkness they move, so wise and so cunning
Never to be seen, only heard in a distant hound

Ghosts and foxes, so alike they seem
But really, both are so unique
In the night, they both have their place
A ghostly fox, an elusive grace