The Love Hunt

Long, long ago, when the world was young And was fashioned for forming new life, Upon those lands, the Great Spirit Sung The Song of Green Nature grown rife. Then, when the World of the Wolf was Wild With the growth of great grasses and trees, Each Primal creature was born as First Child Of all of the Creatures Man sees. And the Great Spirit sang, low and then high; From these notes, Male and Female were born: The very first Bird to fly in the sky, And the very first Mouse in the corn. And thus the First Wolves were created, In the beginning, both Cruelly Cursed, For both were set apart and fated To Hunt for True Love – their Last and First. With one in the West and one in the East; For a whole world away was their fate, Each with the hunger to hunt and to feast On the Love of a lonely Soul- Mate. Marrok, the He-Wolf, paced in the West, All alone with the mountains and trees, Whilst She-Wolf Canina, prowled as best She could in the East, where tundra’s freeze. Such was the Doom of these Souls of the Snow, Such was the plight of these Lovers unmet, To Prowl and to Howl and still yet to know The Lick of the Love they hadn’t had yet. Such was this Cosmic game of cruel chance, In Casting these Souls as poles apart; Hunting each other in a lonely dance - By Light of the Moon and Beat of the Heart!

The Moon Curse

The She-Wolf, Canina, has begun Her quest to quench her fiery passion, And seek for the Mate – the Only One Who by his Will, her Love can fashion. In the Russian Steppe, across the waste Of the Arctic Wilds, she lopes alone, With gnawing need to ravage and taste Something far more than Flesh, Blood or Bone. She sneaks through the snow, slides through the sleet, Her breath a cold fog, coiled in her mane; Cool though her head, her Heart is the Heat That fires the furnace of Love’s Hot Pain. This, the First Moon, New Sickle-slither, She now attends, as friend of the Night, That will like her, flourish then wither, Waxing then waning, then Gone from Sight. This, the First Month of her Lunar Life, Not yet knowing, that hunt as she might, With urgent need to be a Wolf-Wife, She only Lives by curse of Moon-Light. For such the Great Spirit has decreed, That the Wolf would be blessed most of all, With Life-Long-Love beyond normal need, With a Love to Bewitch and Enthral. But to earn such Love, each has to seek For the other, a Wide World apart; And only by Moon, can Love Unique As theirs, be Married, as Heart to Heart. Canina then found herself growing weak, As the Full Moon faded, so did she; And in the West, where Marrok did seek; As His Full Moon waned, so did he!

The Dream Drink

The He-Wolf, Marrok, First of the Race, Of Wolves of the World, howls in the West, Alone and unloved, on Earth to pace Ever by Moon-Light, on True Love’s Quest. Although alone, he’s not unknowing, For deep in his breast burns the bright flame That glows and guides him, onward going, To seek the Love that he’s yet to name. Somewhere out there, in the world waiting, Lives the Love that is keen to be found, That like him, is Hunting and Hating Time that is wasted, on barren ground. As their East and West Moons wane away, And their First Moon-less Nights so begin, So too, these Wolves, unable to stay, Fade away in the Night, Dark as Sin. Each Month they appear ever nearer, As the New Moon begins, so do they, With each Waxing Moon getting Clearer, And with each Waning Moon, growing grey. And each Month that passes they’re getting Much nearer and nearer to the date That is set as the Fate that is letting Them meet under Moon of their Mate. Canina appears on a Mountain, While Marrok appears by a River, The Source of this being the Fountain That Springs like a Snake that does slither. Both bend to take Drink of Cool Water, One on high from the silvery stream, The other low down by the broader Great River – but both – the Same Dream!

The Heart Beat

The full moon at midnight is riding Up there high in the sky, in the clouds; Sometimes it is seen, sometimes hiding In grey tatters of clouds as its’ shrouds. So lost in the silvery moonlight, Like a soul cast away on the seas, Those deep, inky oceans of dark night, Is this moon, and the howl, in the breeze That blows through the great forest brooding, Far beneath the cold, moon-shattered sky, Where a lone wolf howls, there intruding With her song into wind’s lonesome cry. For there, sings the she-wolf Canina, With her howl and her heart and her hope; For she thought he might just have seen her, The He-Wolf she once saw, who did lope Far away, as a shadow that shuddered, As a brief, fading dream of the heart That beat like a drum that had thundered For a while before Lovers must part. But this dream was more than the yearning Of a Lover for Love to unite, For held in her mind brightly burning Was that glimpse of her Love in the night. As the last hint of moon had vanished, Just as she too was fading away, By absence of moon being banished, There she saw the faint, flickering grey Of the Wolf she knew she was needing, Her True-Love who she knew she would meet, By fact of her sharing the speeding Of True-Love’s insistent heart-beat.

The Soul Mate

Meanwhile, far away and at mid-night, Marrok too, has concerns for his mind; Is it lost like the frost, at day-light, Cracked and crossed with a cold so unkind? He’s searched for so long and is weary, As sleepless, he has howled through the night, And cursed with a vision now bleary In the winter-white, snowy, dawn light. Now high on a hill he is hunting, But so silent and still and alone, And with eyes and ears he is hoping To find Love he would have as his own. He knows that out there, in the blindness, Of blizzard and of blistering gale; Out there lives the Love that brings kindness, Of a Mate to this blustering Male. Out there in the world there is waiting, And as yet, as unknown and un-named, A creature created for mating And for taming this creature, un-tamed. And he knows this, he knows this as certain, As he knows of the scent of the prey, Of perfume of blood and black curtain Of night’s death that drops down on the day. For he has been cursed with a vision, Or been blessed, by his heart, he can’t tell, He is held in thrall – indecision – Is this Love now a Heaven – or Hell? He Howls and he Hurts but continues, In pure trust to the tryst with his fate, By power of muscles and sinews, To Hunt and to find his - Soul-Mate.

The Star Fall

Deep in a forest, feeling angry, All alone, with no one beside her She’s hunched on her haunches and hungry For the love so often denied her. She lies under moon-light and star-beams, She is tired, but unable to sleep, As she gazes through branches and dreams Of the Wolf that she wishes to keep. The trellis of trees up above her, They all criss-cross the sky like a net, To capture the one that could love her, The Lone-Wolf that her heart can’t forget. So close he had come, and more clearly, More than ever before, he’d appeared, As silhouette shape who had dearly Whispered one word, as to her he neared. She thought she had caught but a murmur, A brief whisper of one fervent word, And she prayed it would now confirm her Deep belief in the word she had heard. The World, it is spinning so slowly, So slowly and so distant and far, And she feels so lost and so lowly, As she gazes at a twinkling star. And the star, it seems to be growing, It seems to loom larger and nearer, As she watches it slowly showing The face of a wolf growing clearer. Is it memory, magic or dreaming, A sweet dream that’s been caught from above, And brought to her now, that is seeming To murmur it’s meaning of – Love?

The Ghost Dance

Canina, at last is now sleeping, Just as elsewhere Grey Marrok sleeps too, Both caught in a dream where they’re leaping Together in a dream now come true. Two Wolves in a magical landscape, Where they playfully bite, growl and grunt, A vivid and colourful dreamscape, Where together they roam on love-hunt. Two Wolves stand together in moon-light, Side by side, with no need to converse, As beneath a full moon, with delight, Mind to mind, they are freed from moon-curse. Two Wolves at a river together, Where they stoop at the wide river’s brink, Where waters and they lap forever, As together they take their dream-drink. Two Wolves with their hearts beating madly, As together they love and they greet The family of cubs that they gladly There create for their future’s heart-beat. Two Wolves with two souls that co-mingle, As two suns that collide and create, Each a pair and no longer single, Now united as mate to soul-mate. Two Wolves that are two constellations, Where the stars have all gathered in thrall, To the spell of love's aspirations, As from sky they now start their star-fall. Canina awakes with the sunrise, As Grey Marrok does too, in a trance, Has it been but a tissue of lies, A Dream-Catcher’s Dream – A ghost-dance?

The Love Leap

Dawn slowly in splendour arises, As the moon slowly sinks in its sea; Lady Luna smiles and surmises, From their curse, soon her wolves, will be free.   Each side of a valley are waking, Her two wolves, who have dreamed through the night, Sweet dreams that would leave their hearts breaking, Were it not for what now lies in sight.   Canina peers out ‘cross the valley Where she sees what apparently seems To be the grey wolf that is fully As alive as the one in her dreams.   And Marrok is likewise so smitten, In stunned disbelief at the view Of the wolf in dreams he had bitten With the bite of a love now come true.   With joy and great bellows resounding, They rush down to the river below, With hearts beating faster and pounding, They must leap to the love they must know.   But high in the sky there is flying In the form of a black feathered bird, The Dark Goddess Eris, there spying - Spirit of Strife – to have the last word.   The wolves reach the banks of the river; Without pause they both give a great leap, Compelled to collide and forever Be together awake or asleep.   Each wolf aims at heart of their lover; Jealous Eris, cries out a new curse; The Wolves pass like ghosts through each other And vanish away into worse!

The eight chapter love story poem, The Legend of Saxon

Wolf, has been turned into an eight song music album

titled “Hunting for Love”.  It is the story of a male and

female wolf set apart by fate; now with a destiny of

finding each others love.

The Curse of Eris

Canina awakens, disoriented As snow gently drifts from the sky In strange skin, on two legs, she rises And views a new world through human eyes Being Continued….

Love Story Poem 2

What has become of the wolves? Find out in our next series of Saxon Wolf Love Story Poems
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The Love Hunt

Long, long ago, when the world was young And was fashioned for forming new life, Upon those lands, the Great Spirit Sung The Song of Green Nature grown rife. Then, when the World of the Wolf was Wild With the growth of great grasses and trees, Each Primal creature was born as First Child Of all of the Creatures Man sees. And the Great Spirit sang, low and then high; From these notes, Male and Female were born: The very first Bird to fly in the sky, And the very first Mouse in the corn. And thus the First Wolves were created, In the beginning, both Cruelly Cursed, For both were set apart and fated To Hunt for True Love – their Last and First. With one in the West and one in the East; For a whole world away was their fate, Each with the hunger to hunt and to feast On the Love of a lonely Soul- Mate. Marrok, the He-Wolf, paced in the West, All alone with the mountains and trees, Whilst She-Wolf Canina, prowled as best She could in the East, where tundra’s freeze. Such was the Doom of these Souls of the Snow, Such was the plight of these Lovers unmet, To Prowl and to Howl and still yet to know The Lick of the Love they hadn’t had yet. Such was this Cosmic game of cruel chance, In Casting these Souls as poles apart; Hunting each other in a lonely dance - By Light of the Moon and Beat of the Heart!

The Love Hunt

Long, long ago, when the world was young And was fashioned for forming new life, Upon those lands, the Great Spirit Sung The Song of Green Nature grown rife. Then, when the World of the Wolf was Wild With the growth of great grasses and trees, Each Primal creature was born as First Child Of all of the Creatures Man sees. And the Great Spirit sang, low and then high; From these notes, Male and Female were born: The very first Bird to fly in the sky, And the very first Mouse in the corn. And thus the First Wolves were created, In the beginning, both Cruelly Cursed, For both were set apart and fated To Hunt for True Love – their Last and First. With one in the West and one in the East; For a whole world away was their fate, Each with the hunger to hunt and to feast On the Love of a lonely Soul- Mate. Marrok, the He-Wolf, paced in the West, All alone with the mountains and trees, Whilst She-Wolf Canina, prowled as best She could in the East, where tundra’s freeze. Such was the Doom of these Souls of the Snow, Such was the plight of these Lovers unmet, To Prowl and to Howl and still yet to know The Lick of the Love they hadn’t had yet. Such was this Cosmic game of cruel chance, In Casting these Souls as poles apart; Hunting each other in a lonely dance - By Light of the Moon and Beat of the Heart!
Back to top

The Moon Curse

The She-Wolf, Canina, has begun Her quest to quench her fiery passion, And seek for the Mate – the Only One Who by his Will, her Love can fashion. In the Russian Steppe, across the waste Of the Arctic Wilds, she lopes alone, With gnawing need to ravage and taste Something far more than Flesh, Blood or Bone. She sneaks through the snow, slides through the sleet, Her breath a cold fog, coiled in her mane; Cool though her head, her Heart is the Heat That fires the furnace of Love’s Hot Pain. This, the First Moon, New Sickle-slither, She now attends, as friend of the Night, That will like her, flourish then wither, Waxing then waning, then Gone from Sight. This, the First Month of her Lunar Life, Not yet knowing, that hunt as she might, With urgent need to be a Wolf-Wife, She only Lives by curse of Moon-Light. For such the Great Spirit has decreed, That the Wolf would be blessed most of all, With Life-Long-Love beyond normal need, With a Love to Bewitch and Enthral. But to earn such Love, each has to seek For the other, a Wide World apart; And only by Moon, can Love Unique As theirs, be Married, as Heart to Heart. Canina then found herself growing weak, As the Full Moon faded, so did she; And in the West, where Marrok did seek; As His Full Moon waned, so did he!
Back to top

The Dream Drink

The He-Wolf, Marrok, First of the Race, Of Wolves of the World, howls in the West, Alone and unloved, on Earth to pace Ever by Moon-Light, on True Love’s Quest. Although alone, he’s not unknowing, For deep in his breast burns the bright flame That glows and guides him, onward going, To seek the Love that he’s yet to name. Somewhere out there, in the world waiting, Lives the Love that is keen to be found, That like him, is Hunting and Hating Time that is wasted, on barren ground. As their East and West Moons wane away, And their First Moon-less Nights so begin, So too, these Wolves, unable to stay, Fade away in the Night, Dark as Sin. Each Month they appear ever nearer, As the New Moon begins, so do they, With each Waxing Moon getting Clearer, And with each Waning Moon, growing grey. And each Month that passes they’re getting Much nearer and nearer to the date That is set as the Fate that is letting Them meet under Moon of their Mate. Canina appears on a Mountain, While Marrok appears by a River, The Source of this being the Fountain That Springs like a Snake that does slither. Both bend to take Drink of Cool Water, One on high from the silvery stream, The other low down by the broader Great River – but both – the Same Dream!
Back to top

The Heart Beat

The full moon at midnight is riding Up there high in the sky, in the clouds; Sometimes it is seen, sometimes hiding In grey tatters of clouds as its’ shrouds. So lost in the silvery moonlight, Like a soul cast away on the seas, Those deep, inky oceans of dark night, Is this moon, and the howl, in the breeze That blows through the great forest brooding, Far beneath the cold, moon-shattered sky, Where a lone wolf howls, there intruding With her song into wind’s lonesome cry. For there, sings the she-wolf Canina, With her howl and her heart and her hope; For she thought he might just have seen her, The He-Wolf she once saw, who did lope Far away, as a shadow that shuddered, As a brief, fading dream of the heart That beat like a drum that had thundered For a while before Lovers must part. But this dream was more than the yearning Of a Lover for Love to unite, For held in her mind brightly burning Was that glimpse of her Love in the night. As the last hint of moon had vanished, Just as she too was fading away, By absence of moon being banished, There she saw the faint, flickering grey Of the Wolf she knew she was needing, Her True-Love who she knew she would meet, By fact of her sharing the speeding Of True-Love’s insistent heart-beat.
Back to top

The Soul Mate

Meanwhile, far away and at mid-night, Marrok too, has concerns for his mind; Is it lost like the frost, at day-light, Cracked and crossed with a cold so unkind? He’s searched for so long and is weary, As sleepless, he has howled through the night, And cursed with a vision now bleary In the winter-white, snowy, dawn light. Now high on a hill he is hunting, But so silent and still and alone, And with eyes and ears he is hoping To find Love he would have as his own. He knows that out there, in the blindness, Of blizzard and of blistering gale; Out there lives the Love that brings kindness, Of a Mate to this blustering Male. Out there in the world there is waiting, And as yet, as unknown and un-named, A creature created for mating And for taming this creature, un-tamed. And he knows this, he knows this as certain, As he knows of the scent of the prey, Of perfume of blood and black curtain Of night’s death that drops down on the day. For he has been cursed with a vision, Or been blessed, by his heart, he can’t tell, He is held in thrall – indecision – Is this Love now a Heaven – or Hell? He Howls and he Hurts but continues, In pure trust to the tryst with his fate, By power of muscles and sinews, To Hunt and to find his - Soul-Mate.
Back to top

The Star Fall

Deep in a forest, feeling angry, All alone, with no one beside her She’s hunched on her haunches and hungry For the love so often denied her. She lies under moon-light and star-beams, She is tired, but unable to sleep, As she gazes through branches and dreams Of the Wolf that she wishes to keep. The trellis of trees up above her, They all criss-cross the sky like a net, To capture the one that could love her, The Lone-Wolf that her heart can’t forget. So close he had come, and more clearly, More than ever before, he’d appeared, As silhouette shape who had dearly Whispered one word, as to her he neared. She thought she had caught but a murmur, A brief whisper of one fervent word, And she prayed it would now confirm her Deep belief in the word she had heard. The World, it is spinning so slowly, So slowly and so distant and far, And she feels so lost and so lowly, As she gazes at a twinkling star. And the star, it seems to be growing, It seems to loom larger and nearer, As she watches it slowly showing The face of a wolf growing clearer. Is it memory, magic or dreaming, A sweet dream that’s been caught from above, And brought to her now, that is seeming To murmur it’s meaning of – Love?
Back to top

The Ghost Dance

Canina, at last is now sleeping, Just as elsewhere Grey Marrok sleeps too, Both caught in a dream where they’re leaping Together in a dream now come true. Two Wolves in a magical landscape, Where they playfully bite, growl and grunt, A vivid and colourful dreamscape, Where together they roam on love-hunt. Two Wolves stand together in moon-light, Side by side, with no need to converse, As beneath a full moon, with delight, Mind to mind, they are freed from moon-curse. Two Wolves at a river together, Where they stoop at the wide river’s brink, Where waters and they lap forever, As together they take their dream-drink. Two Wolves with their hearts beating madly, As together they love and they greet The family of cubs that they gladly There create for their future’s heart-beat. Two Wolves with two souls that co-mingle, As two suns that collide and create, Each a pair and no longer single, Now united as mate to soul-mate. Two Wolves that are two constellations, Where the stars have all gathered in thrall, To the spell of love's aspirations, As from sky they now start their star-fall. Canina awakes with the sunrise, As Grey Marrok does too, in a trance, Has it been but a tissue of lies, A Dream-Catcher’s Dream – A ghost-dance?
Back to top

The Love Leap

Dawn slowly in splendour arises, As the moon slowly sinks in its sea; Lady Luna smiles and surmises, From their curse, soon her wolves, will be free.   Each side of a valley are waking, Her two wolves, who have dreamed through the night, Sweet dreams that would leave their hearts breaking, Were it not for what now lies in sight.   Canina peers out ‘cross the valley Where she sees what apparently seems To be the grey wolf that is fully As alive as the one in her dreams.   And Marrok is likewise so smitten, In stunned disbelief at the view Of the wolf in dreams he had bitten With the bite of a love now come true.   With joy and great bellows resounding, They rush down to the river below, With hearts beating faster and pounding, They must leap to the love they must know.   But high in the sky there is flying In the form of a black feathered bird, The Dark Goddess Eris, there spying - Spirit of Strife – to have the last word.   The wolves reach the banks of the river; Without pause they both give a great leap, Compelled to collide and forever Be together awake or asleep.   Each wolf aims at heart of their lover; Jealous Eris, cries out a new curse; The Wolves pass like ghosts through each other And vanish away into worse!
Back to top

Love Story Poem 2

What has become of the wolves? Find out in our next series of Saxon Wolf Love Story Poems
Back to top

The Curse of Eris

Canina awakens, disoriented As snow gently drifts from the sky In strange skin, on two legs, she rises And views a new world through human eyes Being Continued….

The eight chapter love story poem, The

Legend of Saxon Wolf, has been

turned into an eight song music

album titled “Hunting for Love”.  It is

the story of a male and female wolf set

apart by fate; now with a destiny of

finding each others love.