When the night wind changes course sending breezes from the north,
when farmer's fields lie brown and fallow and empty ropes swing from their gallows,
when children's faces are drawn and gaunt and earth bound spirits wail and haunt,
when eagles scan the barren snow and field mice shiver deep below
The dragon stirs deep in his lair, the townfolk sense him with despair,
the mountain rumbles as he wakes, he spreads his wings and the valley quakes.
he snorts and breathes a sulfur fire and his eyes his cache with dark desire,
gold and gemstones line his cave, a sea of diamonds with an emerald wave.
The trees are black against the snow, a lone warrior stands to face his foe,
chainmail clanking, his sword his honed, he goes to face his fate alone.
Fire breathing, wing spread vast, the warrior is at first aghast,
the dragon's chest and stomach too shine with gems of multi-hue
He slept so long upon his loot, he wore a jewel encrusted suit
he saw the warriors weapon glint and chuckled at his innocence
The dragon swooped and breathed his breath, the warrior smelled the scent of death.
many times the dragon dove and set aflame the field and grove.
Lost in this game he gave no thought to the warrior who mattered naught,
And as the dragon flew by low, the warrior drew his mighty bow.
The bow and arrows were elfin hewn, inscribed with words of ancient runes
the warrior held his breath and aimed and steeled himself against the flames.
The dragon saw the arrow cocked and turned his head, his eyes were locked.
the arrows flight was straight and true, and into the dragon's eye it flew.
The warrior was elected king, he wore fine jewels and heavy rings
But though he tried, he found no peace
For he had formed some strange bond with the beast
The corpse was plucked clean of it's jewels and all the people danced like fools
Though he was king of hill and glen, they never saw him smile again.
I write of a man named Edgar Allan Poe whose dark, tortured soul could not rest
His work is something every poet should know
These stories are among some of his best
"The Raven" was never more ghastly and grim, "The Pit and the Pendulum" did torture him, "The Valley of Unrest" was such a quiet place while "The Sleeper" dreams in peaceful grace. "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" were a mystery, "The fall of the house of Usher" had a gloomy history, "The Black Cat" was dead but suffered no pain, "The Tell Tale Heart" is what drove him insane, "The Masque of the Red Death", did conceal while "The Purloined Letter" did reveal, "The Premature Burial" was meant for the dead, while "Annabelle Lee" was the corpse bride he wed, "Spirits of the dead" found themselves alone, "The Conqueror Worm" that fed on human bone, "The Haunted Palace" was wandered by ghosts, while "Tamerlane" was written for the one he loved most
As the poetry flowed from his heart, one tragic day, death came to his door
Finally his tortured soul could depart
He would then pick up his pen nevermore
Thank you for sharing your festive and poetic holiday production with us. Now you can restore your depleted energy with a plate of Xmas cookies and a glass of egg nog.
