With clever wit he bid me play.
Dark and dangerous, standing there
with wolfish grin and long dark hair.
Deceptive tones, an Irish lilt,
a missed heartbeat, my world on tilt.
Such wolfish charm, such dangerous play,
I find my thoughts are led astray.
23/11/2009
today . . .
Sitting here, my thoughts awry,
I see a Wolf in own mind's eye.
Purring voice on the telephone
reminds me that I'm not alone!
Why is it that he holds such sway,
'come hither' eyes that demand to play?
Carelessly, without a thought,
my resistance weak, tho' strongly fought!
Another day, another dream,
his eyes...
Actually, perhaps they were green?!
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