Dragon

In embers of the moment, beneath painted skies and bound by a reverence to artistry, such charm as these wonders would have me forget.

I welcome the birth of night to saffron clouds with fields of maize, in glow. Lavender with cerise, bridge the heavens gilt but fading.

Day is lost to capacious shadow, a flourishing darkness with descending gloom. Hope, as the candle upon breath, burns defiant amidst trepidation for the coming horrors of night.

In courage, before cowardice, a fool – but better these words my last than to lose all so dear. By sword, lost to Cimmerian shade and carried to conflagration, I shall know honour in glory.

Shattered, the silence lost to thunderous bellow, the air malodorous and charged. Hands shake, as does the ground, in tremor of that which comes and yet remains concealed.

I fight for your image, and in it take shelter, for terror now matches despair. But I shall not yield, for I stand bastion before that which would be without aegis.

This foreboding, fashioned immeasurable by harridan cries, plays in torment of consternation. But I shall bow not to this virago, for my strength lays deep in you.

Flaring tinder, incandescent with blaze, the basilisk comes!

Here now, eyes as scarlet, set deep and piercing, scales glutinous and dim. With thunderous screams, abhorrent in fury, the serpent makes charge with din.

In clash and rumble, with sparks the putrid bluster, a melee of claw and joust.

With final strength, and lance to charge, a heart that’s pierced then ends. In final breath, in savage roar, with heave the monster spent.

In embers of the moment, beneath painted skies and bound by a reverence to artistry, such things as passed would have me live yet more.

I welcome the birth of day to jonquil upon flame horizons, with vanilla skies a dome gilt and glowing.

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6 Responses to Dragon

  1. Manuela, the Rose ;-) says:

    You are indeed an artist, Andrew, and I do love the pictures made of words you paint. Well done! 🙂

  2. With beating wings and free heart I ride thru storm and face the Knight. That he may slay me where I land does not challenge me nor temper my blaze, for I am Dragon – your protector, your basilisk, your heart.
    Your words fly Pan. Delightful!
    Wendyxx

    • avbarber says:

      At your feet and without life, the heart of the beast beats no more – by sword, and in honour of thy name – peace – As always, thank you for your lovely words 🙂

  3. Marina says:

    Hello Andrew—appreciating and savouring your wonderful choice of words in this recent essay I find my cryptic mind favouriting a particular word from each stanza—and what does one do with a group of favourite words? Well—I play with them, wondering if anything might appear and I find this phrase asking to be included by way of meagre homage to your word-smith craft. I hope you don’t mind—please take it as a great compliment that your inspiring skill ignites my own pen; “Defiant saffron embers; they honour the immeasurable bellow that shelters in the tinder of a spent joust with piercing, vanilla reverence.”
    Marina

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