We met on a cliff, or'looking a ravine.
Tuffs in the right places -- if you know what I mean.
Her close-set eyes glowed in the moon,
I stammered and shuffled like an awkward baffoon.
"Do you trek here often?"
"Your horns are perplexing."
She turned to me slowly -- my dewclaws were flexing:
"I'm here on vacation."
"My home range is east."
I was muzzle to muzzle with a visual feast.
"May I show you my pen?"
"Maybe dinner? A drink?"
She blushed in the darkness; her nose turned bright pink.
"There's a kudzu patch, down near the river."
"I'll lead; you follow." My hooves were aquiver.
She followed me closely, her breath on my rump.
"You can move to my side once we climb up that hump."
Soon we were trotting, wither to wither.
Loin to loin -- my heart was adither.
"How long are you staying? I hope it's for days."
"I'll invite you to pillage and plunder and graze."
She turned to survey me from poll top to hock.
"I leave in the morning, but I can always come ba-ah-ah-ah-ah-ck."
To be continued .....