Wrapped in your mantle of red?
I can smell from your basket
The scent of fresh baked bread."
The wolf rolls his yellow eyes
And shakes his shaggy head.
"Why tarry in the wood sweet child?
Did you stop by a stream to play
Or to gather roots and herbs
Before the waning of the day?"
The wolf rolls his yellow eyes
and lifts his nose to bay.
Seeking berries far from the trail.
I know where brambles grow best
Juicy and black in a nearby dell."
The wolf extends a furry paw
And wags a friendly tail.
Night in the village sounds the alarm.
Lanterns wielded by burly men
Yield a single shoe and a crimson thread
In search of a child who hasn't come in.
The wolf crouches low and licks his jaw,
Baring his teeth in a canine grin.
A pile of bones and one small shoe
Deep in a den underneath the fell
Are the only sign of what took place
Just before sundown in a forest vale.
The wolf lays his nose on a ruby cloak
And his silent muzzle tells no tales.
