Clouds of steam surround him up high
From dragons who smoke like old men
Large and lazy, enjoying the summer sun
Their fire trails spiral into the heavens
No longer fighting and flying worldwide
Their battle scares earned them retirement.
Now their flames dance from their mouths
As they tell stories of those they lament.
Remember when Ash tried to boil water?
Their guardian wanted a small campfire
And quickly the forest flashed alight
No hiding from enemies with that pyre.
And then when Blaze went swimming?
They dove so deep they ran out of air
They tried to breath fire underwater
But coughed and sputtered bubbles there.
And regal Ember, they refused to concede,
The Battle of Lost Brothers tilted because
They went out like a phoenix fireball
Big enough to take down thirty it was.
As I watch these blabbering legend veterans
I can’t help but chuckle about even older tales
The one I won’t share to protect their pride
When they were too young to find their tails.
Crying when they can’t breath fire
(And that might be the reason why).
Then the next moment fearlessly jumping
With closed eyes and open wings to the sky.
Eating too much and cooking their food twice
When a swallowed burp sizzles their tummy
I’d stroke their color-changing scales and
Try not to laugh, whispering, “Poor dummy”.
But these tales are secrets only for me
The dragon tamer with patience and skill
Smiling and welcoming the new happy infants
Who will be taught how to live for the thrill.
A poem for #napowrimo, prompt for Day 7.