Fox Hunting
By George Thurlow
Take us the foxes, Spoiling all the vines, Cunning crafty critters On tender grapes do dine... Destroying and devouring With brazen confidence, Slyly slinking, stealing Slipping through the fence. The foxes are the little sins That slowly eat away And cause the vines to wither, Corrupt and soon decay. They are the secret little sins We think will do no harm, So we ignore our conscience And the Spirit's alarm. Little foxes are more deadly To our spiritual lives, Ever so subtly sneaking With teeth like switchblade knives... And before we even know it, We're plundered, barren and bare, Suddenly shriveled and fruitless, To be uprooted with the tares. So take us the foxes, A hunting we will go, To rid ourselves of ravaging sins So we might fruitful grow. "Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes. " Song of Solomon 2:15  |
