A poetic journey through my mind

The Call

Come, she cries, her golden eyes
glistening with entrapped moonlight.
Sleek she is, of midnight hue,
this gentle mistress of the night.

Run with me, through darkness, still,
whose untapped depths we two will plumb,
and dance in measured dignity,
all amongst the forests hum.

Listening, I sigh with grief,
and long, just once, to answer her.
But as I sigh, I feel once more
my humans hand upon my fur.

And purring softly, settle down,
and blink my eyes and close them tight,
to dream again of running free
and dancing under pale moonlight.

4 responses

  1. Lovely streams of tenderness!

    April 7, 2012 at 8:01 pm

  2. lensscribbles


    April 7, 2012 at 10:30 pm

  3. artblablablablog

    I love this! Wild and tame all together.

    April 8, 2012 at 4:58 pm

  4. Werewolves can love too!

    April 16, 2012 at 1:28 pm

Talk to me, people! ;)

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