The Phox
I believe that you will find this ode about a frolicking young fox cub to be a "golden" example of poetry arranged in an interesting manner that some of the more astute Yiffstar visitors might be able to comprehend. (I'm not holding out much hope though but I do enjoy pleasant surprises.)
Yes, yes, I know it's been a while since I last gave you a really good Furry story and I will be the first to admit, I'm in a bit of slump, especially with all these new college classes. But rest assured, these classes, once I get through them with good grades, will not in any way keep me from coming up with new ideas that are sure to set this website ablaze. This poem is one of those new ideas and there is a secret behind the way I made this poem about a young vulpine, who is pretty wise for a fox. A careful analysis of his oratory habits will reveal a certain pattern which I feel strongly would be very pleasing to both the eye and the mind. In other words, there's more to this fox than you would think and it becomes more apparent as the poem continues. He's definitely got some pattern on his mind but what is it? That's for you to determine for yourself, dear reader, and I wish you the best of luck in finding our vulpine friend's closely-guarded secret.
Do you know the method to my madness as I crafted this gem? In the Comments section, I would like readers to give their guesses to what makes this particular poem unique. (Hints: There is a reason why the first two lines in this poem and the last two lines of this poem are nothing more than simple monosyllables. There is also a reason why the poem reaches a crescendo at its middle in terms of the words the fox uses compared to the first and last sections. Lastly, a person the fox mentions in this poem contributed to the pattern that runs throughout the aforementioned piece.)
Hi!
Name?
I'm Phox
I am bright
.
My soft fur coat shines.
It shines a beautiful red-white.
The white part is the end of the "brush", or the tail
And the rest of me is a glorious ruddy hue that all humans covet badly.
But humans should not covet what they cannot ever hope to have for themselves and so I truly enjoy my ruddy coat- you don't have it.
Nature is full of many things that the humans in their folly can never attain. The perfect geometry of the nautilus shell- its spiral is reflected in galaxies and hurricanes- Pythagoras would be proud.
For human readers, many wonderful things in nature spiral out of (and in some cases) into control. This speech would be a prime, or maybe a composite example. The human schoolchild struggles daily with his mathematics and geometry every single day but to us animals it comes very naturally to us. Try not to be jealous.
We foxes are sly and clever little creatures and we are not content to be stuck in boxes, even if those boxes are actually rectangles and even if those rectangles are made of gold. My speech in and of itself, is an example of something that an Italian scholar of the Renaissance came up with while studying the growth of rabbits. The rabbits' (who are a fox's favorite food, by the way) population just kept swelling as each of the pairs reproduced every month until they were numberless. They were beyond the reach of all, save for human math nuts.
I could go on like this forever but my human's tiredness is really getting to him and he wants me to stop doing this. And really I am far more intelligent than he is, but I too have my own limitations as a vulpine. So, dear reader, until we meet again remember me as a vulpine mathematician.
The night has grown rather long and myself I'm growing tired. The den is calling me back home, calling me back to the sublime joys of sleep, beloved from pole to pole as one of your human monarchs stated many years ago.
So the time has almost come for this fox to return to his den. I'm tired and I will need to curl up into a ball for my warmth.
I certainly do hope that you figured out this riddle of a poem but I doubt it.
I'd love to help you out but this fur coat must remain.
Wonder if we will meet again?
The pleasure was mine.
A phine time.
Good night!
Bye
Snore!
Well, give me your best guess in comments about what makes this particular poem unique. Our vulpine friend, Phox obviously had something great in mind as he gave his speech. But it would take someone quite learned and astute in mathematics to realize it. My open challenge to every single Yiffstar reader is to find out the answer to this riddle- what was on Phox's (and also my) mind as this intriguing poem was being composed. It really should not be all that hard for someone to decipher and you do not have to be an expert in literature, poetry, or mathematics to know it (although it certainly would not hurt if you were.) I know some of you are thinking- this is ridiculously hard, others are thinking this is ridiculously easy, and I'm thinking how much more must I type before I hit the ridiculous 5,000-character mark designed to keep out all but the most epic of poems. The final hint is this- 1.6180339.