and a husband as cultured feral as any
mankind could have ever produced
so that some nights past the guard hairs

I looked for the amber glow I believed
hidden in his eyes, gave my needs away
yawn and stretch tilting my alpha crown

for in my eyes are amber tints in hazel
strength and cunning to hunt and feast
from woods to hearth and home and him

(c) 2002 Rennie Lorca