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The Wolf
Flowers on the verge of bloom
 Sunlight twinkling its final rays of warmth
 The night fog falling like a curtain of gloom
 The creatures of Luna rising forth.
 He howls his heart to the moon
 Haunting, soulful, mysterious
 Praying for a meal through this holy tune,
 Its woeful eyes ever so serious
 With silver mane and body lean
 Scarred and rugged with muscle and sinew
 His body tells of the tales he’s seen
 And eyes of green in a translucent hue.
 I will forever remember this majestic beast,
 Noble, beautiful, the creature of dreams.

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