I smell a dragon on the Breeze.
The smell of smoke;
A char-broiled lamb,
I sense a dragon is at hand.
Above the trees;
Just out of sight,
It waits to eat your child at night.
Fear the fire;
Dread the flame,
And never let it hear your name.
The cursed creature;
A horrid beast,
So chants the shire’s pious priest.
Tied to a pole;
A maiden fair,
It’s said the dragon eats them rare!
When such a gift;
The dragon sees,
His anger just might be appeased.
A shadow falls;
From the blocked sun,
A dragon this way surely comes.
Quick to your house;
And lock the door,
Hide from the monster all abhor.
The people poke;
Their heads outside,
And warily scan the deep blue sky.
They look around;
No dragons here,
But the maiden’s disappeared.
A voice is heard;
One deep and strong,
That can only be a dragon’s song.
A second singer;
Picks up the tune,
On that fateful afternoon.
A maidens voice;
Rains from the sky,
While upon dragon wings she flies.
~*~
That’s right! It’s poem day here at the Tree Surfing blog. I fun little poem don’t you think?
Don’t forget to leave comments about how much you love or hate poem day!
