Swift, like the wind, with speed, the steep hill,
long hairs whipping cool morning air,
downward toward the black iron gate to fulfill,
the hunger pervading her heart full of care.
Every new morning he greets her with joy,
the man that she loves, feels completed.
Knowing him year upon year since a boy,
her passion spilled out as they greeted.
He offers the gift, an apple he'd found,
she teases his gestures with shunning.
Tapping her sweet girly foot on the ground,
and winking with eyes he thinks stunning!
She takes a big bite, says "mm that was nice",
and purrs at his robust embraces.
He saddles her up, not once thinking twice,
riding off with Babette to new places.