My winged horse jumps and neighs with all might
His loudest movement is but a whisper
To the effortless fluttering and height
Of my fiery serpentine contender
With both hands and strength: a slash of steel, ore
In a second, my eyes close; unwilling.
The motion brings me to her embrace, warm
Like the summer field, slow walk, hand-holding
Warmth: that is what she is; my fire lady
It is her warmth again that brings me back
Creature’s puff by mere inches misses me
And once more her eyes I see: beady black
Those pair of orbs that had warmed my winter
An enemy, yet always my lover