Thursday 28 February 2008

Dragon Tree

Beneath the tired ferment
They stretch their night time claws,
Seeking out the bones of those
Who fell to natures wars.

Nurture hotly coursing
through the xylem of the stem
exploding open flaming bluds
to drink the sun again.

Mighty scales, cloaking clad,
Sweet flowers for their wives;
Their nectar overflowing love
Vast wings of burrowed lives.

The brittle bolt of winter
Finds the armours chink once more
And gold and forest pearl are shed
Gift smoke from antlered form

The circle of the tree complete,
A circle never done,
A circle never starting yet,
Nor finished, nor begun…

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