It can almost be heard on the winds, that high pitch chime,
A woman's sweet melody that carries a ring as old as time
Soft-spoken and dear, that lullaby that puts angels to bed,
or that sultry tone that tugs at men with a finely spun thread

It can never be missed, that booming bass that shakes walls,
a man commands presence; the force to make all before him fall!
Yet, to his fated mate, that sound dies down to a temping hum,
Like silk to bared skin, a calloused caress as heartstrings are strummed

It's a mere whisper,...