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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas #1070509 added May 4, 2024 at 1:08pm
Restrictions: None
Why Red Wouldn't Eat Rabbits
Prompt:
Let this quote inspire your entry today: “At last came the golden month of the wild folk — honey-sweet May, when the birds come back, and the flowers come out, and the air is full of the sunrise scents and songs of the dawning year.” — Samuel Scoville Jr.
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Note:  I was aiming at a different idea, but what came out was a kiddie story. 
Why Red Wouldn't Eat Rabbits
It was the golden month of May after all, amidst the song of birds and the fragrance of flowers. The curious young fox, named Red, looked around the ranch where she was born. She was all alone in the world now, after her entire family was gunned down by the ranch people. She had escaped because she was so little at the time that she wasn't even noticed. She had learned to survive alone, but was this what she wanted out of life? What if the people with the guns came after her, too?
She sensed that she shouldn't stay around here and besides, she was a curious fox and her insatiable want for adventure was beyond this environment, especially today as the first lights of this May morning shone over the forest that lay beyond.
Red felt a surge of excitement coursing through her veins, and with a playful leap, she bounded through the undergrowth, her russet fur catching the golden rays of the sun. Soon enough she was there by the forest away from the ranch.
She ventured deep into the forest. A few steps later, she met a group of rabbits having fun in a clearing adorned with blossoms. Weren't these food? No, Red thought, food doesn't have this type of a laughter tinkling like bells, filling the air with joy, although food filled the stomach. With a mischievous grin, Red joined the rabbits in their playful romp. Together, they chased butterflies through wildflowers and the forest echoed with their laughter.
When the sun reached much higher and cast deep shadows across the forest floor, Red and her rabbit friends took refuge beneath the canopy of trees. Above them, the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze and their whispered lullaby lulled them into a peaceful afternoon nap. In this moment of tranquility, surrounded by the beauty of nature, Red felt a profound sense of belonging.
Red learned from her rabbit friends that she could feed on berries and fruit and an occasional earthworm or two. Rabbits were now family and no good-looking young fox would eat her family, especially after discovering who she really was among these wild folk as the rabbits. For in the golden month of May, amidst the song of birds and under the canopy of trees, she had found this new home where other adventures were waiting to unfold with her new family.
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