He balanced his hand
Sweat-locked from the chase.
A valiant ardor to his lady
Now, with his head reeling
he lay the pewter cup upon the stone.
With a heartfelt glace
and burdened limbs,
he set to rest.
Amber ash pulling him off to dream
Stuck like an insect.
The grey mares retreated
A falcon stood in the distance
as several deer in strident force
scuffed the ground and snorted.
Turbulent winds rushed round one tree
and then another.
His lady's fervent hands set around his,
nestling close in the pines.
Sonja Phinney ©1995
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