Dragons are everywhere. Why can’t we see?

Green dragons lie asleep in every tree,

Until the autumn robs them of their lair,

Which slowly crumbles through the changing air.


So dragons alter colour through the year,

So that they, seamless, seem to disappear.

White in the winter, brown, viridian in spring.

But summer comes, confusing everything.


Then dragons have to choose a special seat.

They bathe in yellow in the ripened wheat.

But I prefer the dusky sunset hours,

When I turn pink amongst the gillyflowers.


©Ruth Twyman Lockyer February 2014

For the illustration that goes with this poem, please email.

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