O Moors, master my heart!
Tie it with gorse, that it may not flee.
Open your mouth; swallow it whole.
Bury it in your hard earth, and
let it beat for only you.

-

My thoughts go round and round
like kestrels swooping fair.
My heart brims with love, love
for hard earth, soft heather,
jeweled Kiani dragonflies awakening
the slumb'ring springs.

-

The hands of my lover
cover me entire.
Each finger-nail's a boulder stone,
each knuckle-bone a hillock green.
It's miles until the end of him.

-

To be free is to walk alone,
waiting for no one.
I am unbound by all but my body--
I know this to be true.
The tips of my fur tingle
with the knowing.

-

What mysteries lie here,
asleep beneath the gorse?
The hills breathe secrets while
the kestrels sing killy-killy to the sky.
He who speaks the tongue of wind
will find the Claws of Liberty.