Green Dragons: Poem by Chris Leermakers

In the heart of the emerald glen,
Where twilight's whispers softly blend,
There dwells a dragon, ancient, wise,
With scales that glint like verdant skies.

His wings are cloaked in mossy hue,
A tapestry of forest dew,
He roams beneath the canopy,
A guardian of mystery.

His breath, a mist of emerald flame,
Can spark the earth, yet none can tame,
He weaves through shadows, fierce and grand,
A keeper of the woodland land.

In silent flight, he pierces night,
With eyes aglow, a fierce, bright light,
A legend forged in time's embrace,
The green dragon, keeper of grace.

His roar, a symphony of lore,
Resounds through ancient oak and yew,
A myth, a dream, a timeless tale,
In forests deep, his spirit sails.

So when you tread on paths unseen,
In places lush and deeply green,
Remember well, the dragon's creed—
He guards the earth, he reigns the reeds.