The sound of the wolf is no surprise.
His gentle cry, his subtle sigh.
In the night standing alone upon a rocky cliff.
A smooth stream running below.
With the moon's beam shining a glow.
The cry is of love, the sigh is of pain.
With this what does he have to gain?
Will it bring her back to him?
Will she hear the echoes through the night?
Morning falls still with his gentle calls.
The wolf lays down like a fallen crown with tears in his eyes.
He hears a whisper, a sweet sound and she says to him,
I've been here all along.
You can rest now.
By, Jennifer LeAnn George Published works written: 04/29/1999