Here is a poem that I wrote in college. That would have been 1998 or thereabouts. I don't think it's fit for publication, but I like it enough to
* * *
Princess and Dragon
She hears him alight beside her bed
then sees his wings by the light of her candle.
Now the same claws that rended shields
gently yet tightly affix to her wrists.
His tail forms a ring, drawing her closer
snout against lips and scales upon breast
pulling her toward the moon, the window
with talon, tooth, and horn in turn.
Being ripped so abruptly from the deep of sleep
she has no prayer of resisting.
So he takes her up, into wind and cloud
and far beyond forest, mountain, and stream
until come morning he lets them both fall
along with the dew to unfamiliar ground.
* * *
I think I was reading way too much Yeats.
Ever Yours,
Fauntleroy
Not fit for publication? I like it. You'll never know unless you send it in somewhere. Maybe a fantasy magazine?
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