The ardent desire of the masculine herd; the love songs they have sung.
I’ve only once, or maybe twice, delighted in one who spoke my tongue.
He was as fair as dark can be; with cinnamon eyes glowing brightly.
We once went a spell without any words; just eyes & arms locked tightly.
He held me through a night of song; when I sang to him all of my love.
The abrasive dawn grew ever near; but not before push came to shove.
Called by the future to make his way; I knew not where to live but now.
I said “be free” as soon as I heard…my “better angels” took their bow.
I hated those angels for stepping forward; even if they were right.
I’d sung my heart away to him; so, that love still haunts me day & night.
L.B.Stowe 