Her wild tangled hair,
wearing a halo of  evening sunlight
like a majestic crown,
goes haywire,
when a sudden guest of wind,
in the manner of a ***** lover
play with it,
in every which way
one can imagine.
Waves of scent,
of freshly cut lemongrass,
emanating from her auburn tresses,
light wild fire
in his thoughts,
as they go down the hill,
through the narrow path
lined with trees full of roosting birds,
to the clearing in the forest
where stands
the lone hunters' lodge
where they'd spend the night.