Post by bdbecra on Mar 7, 2007 9:28:54 GMT 12
Poem #1
I Run With Wild Abandon
I run with wild abandon.
I am nature and she is me.
The wolf is half my brother. Man is my other half.
Neither fully understands me or my desires.
The wolf disdains my taste of a human mate's soft silken flesh.
Man hunts me for the monster he perceives me to be.
And I sneer at the weakness in them both.
Alpha, Beta, Omega, first to last. My packbrothers and I raise our
noses to the moon to cry out.
Happiness and Sorrow, we share with the moon. She who understands.
She who draws us. Who fills us with desire and madness.
For the moon we will run. And hunt.
And if they do not understand, the weak should beware.
~~Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Jan'07
Poem #2
Heat of the Hunt
The heat in my blood thrums through my veins, driving me.
Magic, hot and living calls me to my cause.
To mate. To live. To love.
Only he who is strongest will win the prize.
Wild, fierce, and strong, he hunts me. As I hunt him.
The scent of my mate, so near.
Yet, only so close as I let him.
The heat, and the scent of male flares in my nose.
Lust, need burns under my skin. Calling me to choose.
And so I falter, one misstep in the hunter’s favor.
Bound to me, for all time. My mate, my lover, my life.
~~Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Mar '07
Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Paranormal Romance
bdbecra@hotmail.com www.buffibecraftwoodallauthor.com
www.myspace/buffibw
I Run With Wild Abandon
I run with wild abandon.
I am nature and she is me.
The wolf is half my brother. Man is my other half.
Neither fully understands me or my desires.
The wolf disdains my taste of a human mate's soft silken flesh.
Man hunts me for the monster he perceives me to be.
And I sneer at the weakness in them both.
Alpha, Beta, Omega, first to last. My packbrothers and I raise our
noses to the moon to cry out.
Happiness and Sorrow, we share with the moon. She who understands.
She who draws us. Who fills us with desire and madness.
For the moon we will run. And hunt.
And if they do not understand, the weak should beware.
~~Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Jan'07
Poem #2
Heat of the Hunt
The heat in my blood thrums through my veins, driving me.
Magic, hot and living calls me to my cause.
To mate. To live. To love.
Only he who is strongest will win the prize.
Wild, fierce, and strong, he hunts me. As I hunt him.
The scent of my mate, so near.
Yet, only so close as I let him.
The heat, and the scent of male flares in my nose.
Lust, need burns under my skin. Calling me to choose.
And so I falter, one misstep in the hunter’s favor.
Bound to me, for all time. My mate, my lover, my life.
~~Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Mar '07
Buffi BeCraft-Woodall Paranormal Romance
bdbecra@hotmail.com www.buffibecraftwoodallauthor.com
www.myspace/buffibw