The hair upon his chin began to bristle,
while his head pitches down in somber trance.
Upon the wind; whispering to whistle,
like love that’s always present in romance.
He was soon out of time to do his dance.
Last glimpse of sun was savoured by his eye,
and it was seen on face with passing glance.
The darkness fell as light slipped from the sky,
No longer could he rest, held head up high.
Turned up his chin, made startling tone and growl,
his whiskers moved and soon he gave out cry.
At night there could be heard a echoed howl.
Continued on until the break of dawn,
turned white; the breath of wolf would bellow on.
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