dragon
photo by kellepics at pixabay
dragon
We draw our longbows waiting
for the beast to come. But the
dragon just hangs there in the
air, above the poplars, exhaling
fire. Its scales of metal glisten in the last of
dusk's light, its two fiery eyes
glowing red with anger and alarm.
Our horses are nervous, stamping
their hoofs, the village hounds
run around in circles, barking.
The braver of the villagers stand
watching the rings of smoke and dust
through the trees, some with swords
and staffs. The beast seems to be wounded, swaying
in the air, but soon it steadies
itself, flies around the village in
a wide circle, and climbs back into
the clouds. Fear grip our hearts.
We could have caught a dragon today.
written : 02/07/2014
revised : 05/09/2018
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Uriah Heep - Tales
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018
Labels: conspiracy, fantasy, sci-fi, shape poetry



