Hart Though Adam looked upon a grazing hart, he hungered deeply for a different game. A long-lashed glance had filled his every thought, a slender curve had fanned a smoldering flame.
Hart Close by, fair Eve was gathering canes to weave a basket that would hold her Garden fruit. She watched the wandering man, and wiled the ways that she might wend to capture his pursuit.
Hart His will was bent; he strives to win her heart. A heart which bends and strives to draw his need. The wiles that wove this timeless thatching Art, are warp and weft that weave us harmony.
Hart She hunts, unceasing, weaving every day, yet man so rarely fathoms woman's way. /TKT