Eione light-steps to join her sister.
Goddess of the strand that borders all brine,
she peers, peregrine-eyed, she bides her time,
for ship ploughs water, ardent to lister*...
and as ship nears shore, Eudora draws close,
lifts fine, rounded arms full imploringly,
croons to sea creatures, so adoringly
that a myriad fishes teem, engrossed.
With fishtail smile, Eudora signals - 'in',
wherein - all pike high - then rain down below,
thud like soddened fodder, like hate-hurled words.
As ship slow lists to the brigands' chagrin.
Aktaie strides up, to deliver her blow -
Panicked men cry out like fledgling-robbed birds.
*lister = plough designed to move dirt to either side of a narrow furrow.
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Dragonish
PoetryPART 1: Seven poems that explore love. The sated wind doodles mischievously no longer the ravening raptor loosed that scratched sharp claws to my unfettered glee. Now are you temperate, husky, obtuse. PART 2: Follows the tale of a persecuted dragon...
