Young Writers Society

Ah, the dragon's eye
I am hypnotized by its beauty
Possibly literally, if you believe the myths.

But the color, so rich,
so deep, so wise.
It's seen pasts
It could see futures.

It knows who you are
It knows where you've been
Seeing through that large eye that
Transfixes me in its stare.

The horns extend from the face, the snout,
They provide a hold
For dragon riders
Or an impaling device
For its enemies.

The horns are made of ivory,
But as strong as diamonds,
A strange mixture of magic and element,
A strange mixture that dazzles me here.

Looking at the horns,
Polished with pride,
Over 50 feet long,
Makes me grasp the enormity of the dragon.

It hears everything.
The grass whispering
The birds crowing
Your breaths of awe.

Is the ear spikes?
Or a wombat ear?
Or a fox's?
Whatever it is,
It can hear the words that you're muttering.
That you're whispering
About the dragon's glittering scales.

It hears everything.
The wind singing
The bees buzzing,
Your coos of awe.