Between Battles

All the beserkers now lie sleeping, Visions of severed hearts in their heads. Thieves and reavers are all abed; Posted at sentry, flaxen haired- Walking dead, well fed and alert. Beyond sentinel fires, wolves howl. Amid the trees, lumbering bears prowl. And the growl of wildcat in the wild wood, Inspires owls to question "who?". I answer "not me" and, so not any can see Clutch the rose to my chest And wince at the piercing of tender flesh- of nipple by wild jagged thorn. In the field of forgotten idols I lie awake, aware of the approach of morn When the shadows of night retire- And, a new brighter terror is born.