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The Thought-Fox
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The Thought-Fox (Animal Poems #4)

4.13  ·  Rating details ·  63 Ratings  ·  3 Reviews
The fourth of four volumes of animal poems for children and adults which Ted Hughes has himself arranged in a sequence of increasing complexity. Each volume is available separately, for different age-groups, and they are also available as a boxed set.
Paperback
Published September 18th 1995 by Faber & Faber (first published January 1st 1981)
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Paul Bryant
Oct 09, 2007 rated it it was amazing
When the gnats dance at evening
Scribbling on the air, sparring sparely,
Scrambling their crazy lexicon,
Shuffling their dumb Cabala,
Under leaf shadow

Leaves only leaves
Between them and the broad swipes of the sun
Leaves muffling the dusty stabs of the late sun
From their frail eyes and crepuscular temperaments

Dancing
Dancing
Writing on the air, rubbing out everything they write
Jerking their letters into knots, into tangles
Everybody everybody else's yo-yo

Immense magnets fighting around a centre
Not writi
...more
Dave
Apr 20, 2015 rated it really liked it
Some of these are brilliant. He has a great style and voice, almost mesmerising at times. Some of the poems aren't so good though, therefore it isn't a five star.
Bruce Macdonald
May 10, 2014 rated it it was amazing
Brilliant
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Edward James Hughes was an English poet and children's writer, known as Ted Hughes. His most characteristic verse is without sentimentality, emphasizing the cunning and savagery of animal life in harsh, sometimes disjunctive lines.

The dialect of Hughes's native West Riding area of Yorkshire set the tone of his verse. At Pembroke College, Cambridge, he found folklore and anthropology of particular
...more
More about Ted Hughes...

Other Books in the Series

Animal Poems (4 books)
  • The Iron Wolf
  • What is the Truth?
  • A March Calf

Share This Book

“I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Besides the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

- The Thought Fox”
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