Stand agog at my collection,
Let thine eyes squint at the glitter,
As I adjust my prostrate form,
And languish on my litter.

Amongst these bracing stalactites,
My treasures flow in drifts,
Exposing shining memories,
As my plated belly shifts.

My thoughts pile deep around me,
Golden coins cast down this well,
Each a wish for loved-ones,
Or a story hard to tell.

These riches are my children,
I love them all the best,
Secured by stone and earth above,
Held closely to my chest.

But lest ye think I’m but a worm,
Ensconced beneath your shoes,
There was a time I sought the light,
And had no wealth to lose.

In truth, I soared in years long passed,
Free of fears and full of wonder,
My scales would shatter sunlight,
And life was mine to plunder.

It was love that brought me down to earth,
A knight that pierced my heart,
Some call him saint, I named him George,
He had me from the start.

His love the greatest diamond,
Cool to touch and free of flaw,
My flames were immolation,
When I lost him to a war.

So I nestle here in darkness,
Where my dragon heart beats calmer,
Breathing sulphur vapours from the stream,
Surrounded by my armour.

Think ye not of stealing,
But a penny of this wealth,
My talons are still sharp as wit, my
Defences in good health.

For all of this is part of me,
Every shimmer, spark and gleam,
So hasten ye away from here,
And leave me to my dream.

Bryson Thomas