Silver Wolf


More on wolves: a poem written today and inspired by my love of fantasy, mythology and my spirit wolf – who is not a shape-shifter, to my knowledge – nevertheless … ?!? (fantasy wolf art from pinart collections – thank you people for providing me with a source of lovely illustrations)

silver wolf

Silver Wolf

Within the enchanted land of legend

I follow my inner dreams throughout the night

Roaming the magical landscapes of my soul

Walking side by side with my wolf of light


Deep inside the forest, ‘neath the trembling leaves

The Earth’s strong bones are pounding by our feet

As we dance betwix the moss-streaked stones

And weave my fantasies, like willow, to the beat


As wolf and I howl down the moon

And sip mistletoe wine, on knotted apple grown

We awaken a sleepy dragon, shadow and fire

From its lonely wyre in olden myth and poem


Wolf’s strong arms entwine my waist

Holding tight, as skin on skin, we kiss and flee

Shape-shifted in this mysterious land

Of elemental force, he captures me


Flying swift on ancient dragon scales,

We howl our joy at Luna’s face above

Then lean into each other’s arms

To whisper sweet incantations of love


Our loving touch in rhythms match

The creature’s fiery wings, ablaze with hot desire

And together leave a trail of darkling stars

As we paint the midnight sky with streaks of ember fire


Faster than starlight the dragon bears us

Above outlandish realms, with ivory towers high

‘Cross forests dark and moorlands streaked with blood

Hastening to reach his shining castle in the sky

 whirlpool galaxy

Where we will stay awhile, safe within its walls

Rune-scribed, and draped in silk and lace

And there we’ll drown in star-filled eyes

Before we lay, and lose ourselves in loves embrace


Painting my skin with silent strokes

He draws me close and breaks my heart

With fervent kisses, becoming deeply one

Until I never want to be apart


His touch inflames and clouds my sense

As if the real world loudly, is not calling –

Drawing me, betraying all I want and need

As time flows on; my dreams are stalling


With reluctant will and fierce longing, we leave his realm

And hand in hand with burning tears, begin

To unweave the magic stones, and steal

A last sweet kiss, before my wolf is fur not skin


Then sunlight dawns, treacherous rays of frozen fire

That tint my dream-world bliss with golden light

Yet fill my heart with icy slivers, as for one whole day

I bid my silver wolf goodbye … until tonight

den mother







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