She didn't come to the river on a Tuesday, that's for sure,
She came on a slow Wednesday when the moon was at the door.
Her eyes were two espresso cups, her laugh was honey-rum,
I was halfway through a deer trail when I turned and saw her come.
I dropped the paw-print, dropped the chase, dropped the hunger in my smile,
I said, "Excuse me, miss, I could stay here for a while."
She said, "I've heard you love a porch, I've heard you love a tune,
I've heard you aren't the monster from the old tales of the moon."

Saffron and sage,
Lemon and thyme,
Set the table, darling,
Heartbeat time.

I will cook you a midnight snack, I will plate the moon,
I will stir a little tenderness and serve it with a spoon.
I am not the legend that your mother kept at bay,
I'm just a wolf in an apron learning how to sauté.

I wandered through the market with my collar turned up high,
A smiling vendor winked at me as I was passing by.
I bought fresh butter, tomatoes, rosemary and spice,
A little star anise to make the evening twice as nice.
I borrowed Margaret's oven, I borrowed Pepper's plate,
A little cloth upon the table made the evening feel like fate.
I lit a candle in a thimble, set the silver there for two,
Then waited by the window for the wolf I barely knew.

When she finally knocked, she held a little fern.
She smiled and softly asked me, "I thought you liked to burn."
I laughed and said, "I used to chase the wild from place to place,
But tonight I'd rather set a table and see your smiling face."

We ate beside the candlelight and laughed at stories old,
The quiet wrapped around us like a blanket from the cold.
She said, "I tasted every tale they ever told of you."
I smiled and said, "I'm writing one that's honest, kind, and true."

I will cook you a midnight snack, I will plate the moon,
I will stir a little tenderness and serve it with a spoon.
I am not the legend that your mother kept at bay,
I'm just a wolf in an apron learning how to sauté.