Painting the Dragon

Something stirs in the cavernous deep
Amid dark clouds, silent, asleep
Black pearl gleams, earth and fire, dreams
A flicker, breathing, brush engaged,
Sweeps across an empty page
Suddenly a dot appears, an eye is there,

it knows, it hears
Mists begin to rise and spin
Scales armour plate smooth, cool skin
Nostrils flare, horns raised high
Above it’s head to reach the sky
Lethal, majestic, superlative crown
Open mouth, fangs exposed
Salacious tongue in repose
Muscles rip, contour bone
Strength and power with foot and claw
A shapeshifter now serpent stirs
It’s tail a whip links to ancient myth
Where creatures treated with respect

offer always to protect
In this human world can dragons thrive

when animals are unable to survive
Water, stone, paper, ink and skill
Their instinct is to come and go at will
 

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