The Sunday Scribblings prompt is "soar"
That almost silent whoosh of air is Dramok,
prince of dragons,
dark body limned with luminescence,
riding the night sky
searching -- searching
for Trog, beloved bride,
she of the iridescent scales--
dead long ago.
prince of dragons,
dark body limned with luminescence,
riding the night sky
searching -- searching
for Trog, beloved bride,
she of the iridescent scales--
dead long ago.
His dragon mind can't comprehend that eons have passed.
An ice age (not the last one)
felled him with its sudden chill, and he has lain
inert and dreamless, entombed in ice
until a chance event of warming wind, a ray of sun that angled
into the crevasse where he lay
thawed and wakened him.
To him it seemed a single night had passed.
He longed for night again with orienting stars to guide him home.
But now the very stars betray him.
Earth's slow precession had made of them
false beacons that lead to unfamiliar landscapes.
And what of the stars below?
He remembers the sparse and scattered fires
of the hairy ones, small bipeds such as those encamped
within the entrance to the dragon cave, scorned but tolerated
by their noble dragon hosts. Their fires were pretty, like dragon breath.
But now great starry clusters light the ground
or move in files, as ants do.
A different world. Somehow
overnight
he was transported to a different world.
An empty ache moves in to fill his dragon heart.
He longs for home and Trog
but would greet any dragon, even his greatest rival,
with open wings.
On and on he flies.
By day, chameleon-like, he turns to green and rests unseen in forests.
At dusk he takes the darker colors of night.
Non-dragons share his sky, swift winged giants
whose roar could have drowned out even Myroc
fiercest of dragons. But where is Myroc now?
His wings beat out a sad refrain: Where is Trog? Where is Trog?
To us he seems to be
only a shadow against the stars.
An ice age (not the last one)
felled him with its sudden chill, and he has lain
inert and dreamless, entombed in ice
until a chance event of warming wind, a ray of sun that angled
into the crevasse where he lay
thawed and wakened him.
To him it seemed a single night had passed.
He longed for night again with orienting stars to guide him home.
But now the very stars betray him.
Earth's slow precession had made of them
false beacons that lead to unfamiliar landscapes.
And what of the stars below?
He remembers the sparse and scattered fires
of the hairy ones, small bipeds such as those encamped
within the entrance to the dragon cave, scorned but tolerated
by their noble dragon hosts. Their fires were pretty, like dragon breath.
But now great starry clusters light the ground
or move in files, as ants do.
A different world. Somehow
overnight
he was transported to a different world.
An empty ache moves in to fill his dragon heart.
He longs for home and Trog
but would greet any dragon, even his greatest rival,
with open wings.
On and on he flies.
By day, chameleon-like, he turns to green and rests unseen in forests.
At dusk he takes the darker colors of night.
Non-dragons share his sky, swift winged giants
whose roar could have drowned out even Myroc
fiercest of dragons. But where is Myroc now?
His wings beat out a sad refrain: Where is Trog? Where is Trog?
To us he seems to be
only a shadow against the stars.
33 comments:
Poor Dramok has a lonely story, full of unrequited yearnings, but it is a beautiful one to read. The illustrations are lovely, too -- are these yours?
Yes,Anno,the drawings are mine. Thank for the comment
What loveliness in this poem, GS. It put me in my mind of Stephen Donaldson's novella, "The Daughter of Regals." Dramok's world is wonderfully envisioned.
Goodness Granny! I love the way your mind thinks - I bet you spin great bedtime stories to the little ones, don't u? :)
What a gorgeous story! I read it twice!
Love the idea of the dragon as a chameleon!
Gemma
You amaze me. In such a few words you have set the scene for an epic, acquainted us with the background, and left us longing for more...
You amaze me. In such a few words you have set the scene for an epic, acquainted us with the background, and left us longing for more...
Great tale. 'Tis the fate of dragons to occupy stories but not the world.
oh, Granny, what a delightful read! i loved every single sentence, so well-crafted, so well-written....this would make a wonderful children's book...you really should think about publishing this...beautiful, beautiful story indeed.
dramok's melancholy is palpable - "breathes fire!!!" - wonderful and sooo moving -
the picture is one i scouted around for on the internet - i thouught it spoke eloquently to the piece
Wow, what a neat story, Granny. And the illustrations are yours? (I see you said that in a comment) Awesome.
This will resonate with me for awhile. It's very alive and vibrant.
(I'll post part two of Daniel's Shoulder Sunday night; I'll try to remember to come by and tell you when it's up)
Beautiful, and very moving! love the illustrations as well :)
Nicely done!
I was drawn into your story. Sad sad story. Dramok must be very confused. Love love love your illustrations.
Very nice. (and I, too, like the illustrations...)
Beautifully told, even though sad. The illustrations are awesome!
ah, the anticipation
Sad and magical granny. Your drawings are great too.
so very sad, shch a poor lonely dragon, but so beautiful too
I haven't been able to do my sunday scribblings post yet - but I needed to check out yours - you being my honorary granny and all- and I am SO HAPPY that I DID because it was s a lovely experience and a wonderful testament to your imagination and talent!!!! Loved it especially the description of the way the land used to be...
-amarettogirl
http://amarettogirl.squarespace.com/
What spell has been woven here? So different than my soar, which actually more about landing.
Your imagination certainly soares in this tale Granny. Beautiful illustrations!
I'm repeating here, but this really is the stuff of children's books. Wonderful!
Hey, Granny! I told you I'd let you know when I posted the other half of Daniel's shoulder ... it's up. Come on over to the Meet and Greet to see it (it's short).
A sad story, but a beautiful one. Wonderful images.
A lovely read. Your melancholy tale is full of so many great images--especially his memories and his journey. And nice to see your artwork too.
Wonderful, as ever!
Thanks for sharing, Phyllis.
You are such a talented person! Beautiful imagery and illustrations.
so enticing and other-worldly -thanks for the emotion and creativity....
What a beautiful story but oh how sad! I hope he finds Trog - even dragons deserve some happiness!
Oh lord such sorrow to be the last of your species doomed to look for the past in the future hoping to find one such as yourself or any creature you can identify with... Makes me wish I could do something for him...
Certainly, in my eyes, chameleons will have a magical-ness to them from here on out :-)
missalister
Imagination maximus. You inspire me.
Thank-you.
Beautiful story and the drawings are haunting. I'm going to show them to my little boy. He will love them!
An especially soaring story! I loved the color changes, especially green at night, so haunting and evocative. Is it Dramock or Dramok? I keep visualizing this as a children's read-aloud book. Yes!
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