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A Mate

a mate silver and grey hunger sleek beneath a Spring moon rolls coyly, playfully in a shrouded glade she cries out long, low, ululations reverberations caught, in the silence of pine. her need is great she rubs her belly across cast off cedar brown aromatic scents join pheromones rise into the night carried far. random breezes pass unaware of messages carried.

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Lim'Rik Flats

Date: 10/16/2017 9:28:00 PM

Triple Wowsa! Have had to privilege to see and hear these magnificent creatures in the wild. Didn't think I'd have the opportunity in my lifetime. Hurray for their recovery. Hope we silly hubeans recover enough sanity to avoid extinction...soon! Another outstanding poem from your house!

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/16/2017 10:16:00 PM

Thank you very much! Is it true that Trump is allowing hunters to kill bears and wolves in their dens. I heard it on the news up here a while ago. One of those little filler items that you hear once and never again. You are privileged, at least I think so, to have had the opportunity to hear them.

Old Buck

Date: 10/10/2017 2:47:00 PM

Patricia: Reads like a love song to me. Your stuff is just a bit past the understanding of this old rhymer but always enjoy my simple understanding of your often greater meanings. Thanks for sharing for all to enjoy on the soup. oldbuck

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/11/2017 8:37:00 PM

No you understand very well. For me sometimes the beauty is in simplicity not obscurity.

Jannie Breedt

Date: 10/10/2017 1:50:00 PM

Great piece.

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/11/2017 8:37:00 PM

Thanks Jannie.

Maureen Mcgreavy

Date: 10/4/2017 7:03:00 AM

You are a master :) xomo love this, you have wolves near you?

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/4/2017 1:05:00 PM

Well that is debatable . They ( the authorities) say there is not enough forest for a family of wolves and the howling at night is coyote. Only time will tell.