A FOX ON THE RUN
Reynard the Rover a man of the stash
Money bags bulging stuffed with cash
sensibly shrewd not known to be rash
Will charge the night to a 'Dollar Sign' flash
His prominence known for his moonlight splash
Not a sour cent traceable to moonshine mash
irrreverent reference to a tag with a 'Hash'
Any oversights underspent discarded as trash
Like a long horn bronco from the low grown ash
He's a Texas 'Tea Boy' at a barn dance bash
A fleet foot runner from the Wall Street crash
Stitched deep inner lining where the blues can't clash
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