A Lady and the Serpent of Dreams
Tucked safe away 'neath dragonscale
in cavern deep where the sun doth fail,
lay diamond bright atop the hoard.
Sharp serpent's tooth to guard its gleam,
lest greedy hands be quick to dream.
From Valenwood, amidst wooded vales,
One came to seek this gem of tales,
told often 'round the eve's bright fire.
When men of heart do tip their glass
and dream of deeds that are yet to pass.
Blue flame sang 'round her crystal blade,
by sorcery wrought, and enchantment laid,
as she found her path to the Dragon's lair.
There dark and deep and strewn with bone,
alone she braved that black hole in stone.
Foul were the depths where the beast lay round
great stacks of gold, and upon that mound,
the gleaming gem crowned its bed of wealth.
Yet coiled close 'round that tempting prize,
Dream serpent slept with open eyes.
So close she crept, beneath his wing,
she breathed his breath, endured its sting,
'til she came to reach that glittering stone.
Grasping the jewel with trembling hand,
she bore it close, then made to stand.
Bright shining slit, one all-seeing eye,
blinked slowly as she passed him by,
for in his hole, little escaped his heed.
Slither of scale, fiery hiss of breath
over glistening fang to speed her death.
The Dragon rose, spread wide his wing
as through the Lair came the terrible ring
of his ancient voice, of menace and ire.
'Who dares to come and break my rest,
to rob my hoard, to steal my best?'
Turning her hazel eyes to meet his own,
no quiver of voice nor fear was shown,
as she returned his stare and brandished her blade.
Then high she held that gem she'd stole,
to chase the night from this dark hole.
"I am the one who may be thy bane
if thou wouldst hinder me in my claim
to this bright stone thou hast kept too long.'
Then cold and pale came the fire from her sword
as she drove the beast from atop his hoard.
Of how the lass, so brave and bold
brought forth the stone, many tales are told
and songs are sung throughout the land.
And though the beast she did not slay,
she bore her prize to the light of day.
Dragon coiled 'round his mound of gold,
Steeped in wrath, if truth be told,
For he had been outdone by the lass so fair.
And now without his gem so bright
his hole lay deep in endless night.