I know a werewolf's love.
Always he is there, a protector.
His grey-green-blue-yellow eyes
Look at me always gently,
Gazing calmly from his ruff of
Brown-blonde-black straight-wavy hair.
He folds me to him when darkness threatens,
Strong body a barrier 'twixt evil and I.
We roam the night,
A pack of two.
No shades dare accost.
We howl at the moon, and grin
Toothily
In unison.
Always different, always my
Love, the lycanthrope.

Copyright May 1994, Eloise Beltz-Decker. Reproduction explicitly
permitted, except (a) for profit or (b) without proper attribution.