Last night, beloved,
For once our bedplay
Was not disturbed
By the odd inquisitive fox.
"Satin sheets are too fine
For us, forest lovers,"
I laughed as you took my hand.
"I miss your face
In the light of the fire,"
You said, and pulled me across the room.
We made love in bearskin
On the hearth, smiling
At our foolish fiery desire.