I Gezelda, goddess of the dragons,
bestow upon you, young one, this fire.
Use it to warm yourself. never do harm;
remember, you are a dragon.
Your dragon oath, you mustn’t take lightly;
for you were created by the greatest god.
Your duty to your people is
to keep them safe from wyvern winds.
Once Wyvern’s had the power of fire;
utilize it rightly, they did not.
Dragon-kind was given to Gaia;
to dragon-kind, was given fire.
Go forth my blessed, dragon-child
and slay the wyvern hoards tonight;
for they do harm for which, you’re blamed;
they will pay for their evil digressions.
my coat of arms, two legged wyvern,
exceptionally surreal
Flailing tendrils upon the waves;
an ancient sailor’s fear;
Leviathan rises from the watery abyss.
Red morning skies warn,
of Neptune’s wrath;
his siren daughters,
captivate and destroy the lonely seamen.
Skeletal wings beat the empty air;
foreboding shadows overhead;
the Wyvern, hunting prey.
Old legends never die;
they just shape shift,
to fit the times.
Oily, black tendrils swirl upwards,
from the ocean floor,
to poison and eradicate,
thousands of species.
Leviathan-slicks;
annihilating the oceans.
Modern day Wyverns sail the techno-skies;
drones seeking prey, who take all lives;
intentional and accidental;
no one is exempt from their appetites.
Red skies in the morning;
HAARP’s song of warning;
red tides obliterate life.
Old legends in new guises,
are easy, lethal deceit.
In many country and many tale,
the almighty serpent, a legend regale.
From east to west, the myth would thrive
in many forms, above the clouds, the creature would dive.
Many are monsters and heralds of doom,
in their mountainous lairs, the reptile would loom.
Others are wise and more docile instead,
Hoarders of knowledge and books unread.
Capable of flight and fiery rain,
Upon the wind, strong wings of twain.
Their hides are stronger than most things can pierce,
Crafty and voracious and no less fierce.
Auspicious is the dragon from china, it hails.
With flooding and rainfall, it shimmers it's scales.
Godly is the Japanese dragon, rulers of the sea,
Spiritual and worshiped by the people esprit.
The dragon of England, a tale long told,
A symbol of the kingdom, the Wyvern lives bold.
Many can be said and described diverse,
With stories of thousands with blessing and curse.
Extinct or missing, from modern eyes this day,
Yet undying in our stories, the immortal dragon will stay.
Dragon Breath
It is a tepid dragon’s breath
rises above Jersey’s cryptic swamp.
How high the mist?
Not high enough to climb the noble sky.
Anchored moss in all its sludge cannot
hold back the slippery wyvern
until the time when he sees fit to
roll his tongue towards darkness;
to clear the morn of dusty sweat,
reveal the lucid air until
tomorrow’s dawn cries up
dusty dragon tears.
was not
fading into past, dreams
dreams spent
mist hovers o'r a
lake, haze of light
crystal ice, natures true grip
fear may delight
blight ensues; dreams chased
doves coo, peace hues
outcry
in the lie is the wake
take up, sip from a cup
wry is the path
wyvern came with barbed tail
a tale that quaked.
shake loose and emerge from the lake
of dreams or so it seems.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.