Wings
The wings beat down like canopies, as tonnage goes to flight,
And we our grips secure again, prepared to show our might.
The castle keep looks lovely in the slanting morning light,
As brisk clean air goes whistling by, and dragons join to fight.
The struggle, not in earnest, but meaningful the same,
Gives each a chance to stay in form, and play a warlike game.
There was a time when dragons died, and men were slain for years,
But Peace will reign now, as we find, our strength allays our fears.
They challenge us -- we meet the call, and then the threat is passed,
No one now seeks to plunder, for fortunes once amassed.
Defenses stand at ready, lest temptation once more rise,
And fill the hearts of men for war, with dragons in the skies.
Each keeps to his own keep these days, though trade carts slowly rumble,
And festivals and merriment keeps thirsty blades at humble.
Our Peace has been secured for us. We have no fear of war,
Security is commonplace, when dragons guard the door.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . June 11. 2006
(I hope you don't mind my borrowing your dragon!)