(Silver dragon…. So pretty…)
Silver Dragon
The silver gleam
of eyes burning
sleeping never
upon a pile of gold
The wings glisten
under the canopy
of white shimmering
with every movement
the tail flicks
hiding those caught
the warmth required
for hiberation’s sleep
forked tongue pretending
hopelessly ad libbing
stories abound of red
or green or blue
silver dashes breaking
the wills of winter’s scope
standing in the way
as breath freezes
I know
the smooth scales
the silver glisten
winter’s hero comes again
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Cat Hartliebe 