“There Be Dragons Here” Writing Contest
Entry Eleven
by Caddo Veil
Lost Dragon Dreams~~
Blue clouds of thunder
Filled the air, then—dawn through night.
An endless wilding;
Lifetime, spent; dragons rampaged,
Owned the borders forested….
She thought she’d left all
Mem’ry behind, far ago—
When knights waged battle,
Razed, laid waste to, the land; and
Chaos stole her sanity.
But in dreams, she still
Hears roar of rioting heart-
Beats, clamorous feet;
Smells the smoky incensed breath
In the wake of raging flames.
Most fearsome, creatures—
To royalty, common folk—
With one exception:
The widower king’s daughter—
Of companionship, bereft.
A walk past gardens
Drenched in grayest summer rain,
There—chanced meeting came.
Quiet and resplendent, he
Rose up from sleep’s reclining.
So immense, he was —
Tall as her turreted wall;
Twice its length, perhaps.
Her innocent gaze surmised—
So long, she’d been closeted.
Told only frightful
Tales (not to entertain her)—
She found his solemn
Grandeur beyond confiding:
Heavy-lidded onyx eyes,
Brief-sparked with fire flecks,
Coppery silver, glist’ning;
Regal, sharp-crowned head
Canted to her, curious—
Appraising this mute girl-child.
Splendid robe of scales,
He wore: glimmer-jade, sapphire—
Mist-washed peacock plumes.
Emitting steam, he whispered,
Bid her, “Pray, tell me your name”.
Such courtly manners!
No beast would ever speak thus—
This, she considered.
‘Tis how their friendship began—
Born, kept, in shadowed quiet.
Quaint heart exchanges—
Trivial, significant,
Shared on afternoons;
Stolen days from sep’rate lives,
Braided cords from diff’rent threads.
Hidden hours, sacred
Made—pure fruit of legends, fierce;
Loneliness of souls.
But, secrets must come to light—
The deep’s release, to surface.
Alas, war ensued—
Her father’s army pitted
Against dragon guard.
No mediation offered—
Though she beseeched, weeping dread.
Men born honor-bound,
Sometimes lack facile reason;
Merely speculate,
Imagine harm befallen—
Till it becomes “sure treason”.
The outcome, horrid—
Anticipated losses,
Yet immeasur’ble;
Hardly a blessed stone standing.
Aging princess now enthralled:
Chambered lunacy;
Fed bread, mead-sedated—grieved
Paternal absence;
But sorrows lingeringly—
Ever, for her dragon king.
When wand’ring minstrels
Lose their way, play mandolins,
Fluted notes so true,
She wakes to dream again—of
Nearest thing to love, she knew.
Words, dear myths, he spoke—
Come back, so haunting-tender.
Sky turns onyx night,
Stars flash his dragon colors—
Burnt emerald, indigo.
©Caddo Veil, 2013
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