Friday, 18 December 2020

A Poem a Day (329): Tiny dragons

 
Tiny dragons
 
Morning sits up and begins
with the hum of a small dragon
gliding along the skirting board,
bumping his nose here and there.
Light refracted seeks observance,
the opening of drapes,
the extinguishing of lamps,
but sometimes we just want to read,
sip a cup of tea twice slow,
eat our breakfast out of tune
and ponder hibernation,
as bears do this time of year
and tiny, fiery dragons possibly did
all those centuries ago.
 
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 18, 2020
 
 
 

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