Dragon's Realm
Between the tear that falls...
and the smile that brightens,
there is a domain, I call my own.
A realm of fantasy, and freedom...
where I can soar on a whisper,
and glide into my dreams, revealed.
In this most special of places...
peopled with the real and fanciful,
I find myself, scaled and horned,
dancing upon the wind, winged.
Stopping only long enough...
to talk with some of its denizens.
What stories they spin and weave...
as they try to guide my flight.
Leading me onto paths untried...
with visions never before seen.
Opening my multifaceted eyes wide,
to the rivers of emotion flowing.
Until at last, I land, gasping...
trying to catch my breath...
curling my body tightly around,
until my snout reaches my tail.
And there we sit, my tail and I,
the circle joined...and complete.
© 1995 Terry Schorer/Quelonzia
Copyright 1995 by Amanda M. Hayes (c).
The Dragoness
From the darkened depths of the shadows, she rises
Swift as the wind, flame-bright, proud as a hawk
The moonlight glittering on her graceful form.
A creature of great mystery and majesty--
Beautiful, noble, valiant, and deadly.
Her silver voice can lure men to their doom,
Her brightly shining claws rend flesh and bone.
And the same sculptured fangs that grace her smile
Have charmed beasts into becoming her dinner.
Even her eyes, so full of lovely wisdow
Are mesmerizing, an enchanting trap.
Beware the perilous beauty of the dragon--
And, even as you do, surrender to it.
---Amanda M. Hayes
A soul in flight
The master of mysteries awaits,
outside in the sybilant storm.
I look, and behold, high rises now the thunderhead.
I leap, and, with a jolt my wings catch the air,
circling higher and higher before the deluge.
Rain then comes down on my face,
bringing a strange irrational joy,
a oneness with the universe,
rare to me.
Flying, twirling, dancing through downdrafts
winging my way across the sky,
I fly in harmonies as old as dragonkind,
my scales glistening where they break into sun.
Updrafts, fighting their way to heaven, catch me
throwing me up into the crystal sky, through
crystals of ice and mist clouds,
to a high point where the blood pounds
through your head, and spots of bright color
dot your eyes.
Diving now the awesome view
shows the world as a tapestry
and me as one poor needle,
Sewing onwards.
(Note: The Author is Eric Hansen/AtlQuotl)
