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Volume 3 Issue 5 ISSN# 1708-3265
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Daughter of the Dragons
The Poem

by Jennifer Monaghan

I.

By day you wander with
the peasant-folk
filling jugs with water
Carrying them atop your raven-coloured head
stitching men's work shirts with delicate pale fingers
giggling with village maidens
Flirting with the ironsmith's apprentice as he gazes into
your crystalline eyes

By day you are the child of
the Daughter of a bard
the child of the son of a soldier
Your father carries a sword
And your mother cooks the stew
for the young warriors
the young hunters
training in the village army,
training to defend the land
against invaders and thieves
training to fight goblins and
ogres and trolls of all kinds
training to protect the unicorns
and training to slay the Dragons…

By day you are the Daughter of
of a hunter,
Daughter of the predator

But as the sun sets and night falls
you become the Daughter of the hunted…

By night you become the
hunted…

II.

The magician's globe rises high
into the sky and to the woods you travel
silent and swift through the maze of oak
and ash and beech
weaving through the maze
of birch and thorn

Into the mountains on the
other side you journey
your crystalline eyes glowing
and your hair
becoming the wings which carry your
body into the night

Your clothing become the glittering scales
your nails become magnificent claws
your body swells thirteen times it's size…

&#133And thirteen times again it swells <p>A dreadful shriek fills the valley between the Dragon Mountains <br>Convulsions, torturous and agonizing, <br>plague the expanding body and then the transformation <br>completes itself <p>III. <p>The Witching Hour is near <br>The soldiers hear the beastly cry <br>The moonlight glints off of scales <br>and swords alike <br>Through the woods the soldiers travel <br>on a path created by a raven-haired girl <p>You hear their silent footsteps <br>and you smell their determined fear <br>You await them with disciplined patience <br>Crouching in a crevice at the foot of the <br>brothering mountains <br>Your ebony armour hidden in the darkness <p>They sense your power <br>They hear your heartbeat and they can feel the heat <br>of your steaming breath but still they cannot see you <br>Closer and closer they creep until they are almost touching you <br>with their trembling shields and arrows <br>But still they do not see you <p>A soldier armoured in a fine Elven-crafted suit reaches out <br>to lean against a rock and he finds the smooth surface of a <br>dragon's scale <br>He cries out to his companions and they charge with swords <br>raised <br>bows and arrows bouncing off of the impenetrable dragon-mail <br>You rise in the night roaring and spitting fire over the heads <br>of the soldiers <br>so as not to kill them but only frighten <p>Your wings expand, touching the sides of either mountain <br>Underside exposed it is not the colour of the raven-scales but <br>a brilliant star-covered blue <br>The soldiers run from the majestic sight <br>running from the inferno above their heads <br>Running, all but one <br>who pulls an arrow back in his bow, and aims at your <br>crystalline heart <p>The arrow releases, <br>piercing the tender flesh of your belly and driving straight <br>into your dragon heart <p>Lashing your forepaw, talons enter flesh <br>and the soldier falls with you to the ground <br>Your dragon-self dissipates into the darkness <br>You are once more a raven-haired maiden <br>covered with the blood of a dragon and the blood of a soldier <p>A gentle hand lifts your head, cradling you in tender embrace <br>Lifting your gaze you find the face of an ironsmith's apprentice <br>Your hand reaches up and touches his blood-soaked chest <br>He presses his lips onto your own <br>and his tears trickle down onto your cheek <p>IV. <p>By day you wander with the village-folk <br>giggling with the young maidens and flirting <br>with the ironsmith's apprentice as he gazes into <br>your crystalline eyes <p>By night you are a dragon's daughter, <br>slayer of a soldier, <br>slain by a soldier. <p>By night you are a dragon's daughter <p>By night, <br>by moonlight, <br>by death&#133 <p>&#133 in death <p>you are the wife of an ironsmith's apprentice&#133</font> <p align="center">Copyright 2001 Jennifer Monaghan <br><br><br> <p><FONT SIZE=-1 COLOR="#336600">Jennifer is happily married to a wonderful woman, Lisa. Theirs is a union of true, deep, respectful love&#133 the kind we all dream about. Of course we mustn't forget&#133 their beautiful little fur-family! Her two cats - Max and Hazel, dog - Queenie, four rats Charlie, Tobey, Fifi, Eowyn, and Gloria. Her hamster - Poohbear and aquatic-turtles Maximus and S.A.M. <p>Jennifer is embarking on a new career as a Behavioral Analyst and also works part time at a group home providing care to persons with physical and developmental disabilities. <p>She is also a writer and poet with a passion for the written word since childhood. Jennifer's poetry has been featured in The Prologue, an annual publication of the University of WI, River Falls, Body Mind Spirit Magazine and here at TSM.</font> </td> </tr> </tbody> </table> <p align="center"><img src="images/bar1.jpg" width="360" height="8" border="0"> <p align="center"><a href="mailto:timelessspirit@shaw.ca?subject=Feedback"><img src="images/3-5/thoughts.jpg" width="375" height="100" border="3"></a> <p align="center"><img src="images/bar1.jpg" width="360" height="8" border="0"> <!-- End Matters --> <p align="center"><a href="http://www.timelessspirit.com/akswebdesign.html" target="_blank"><img src="images/akstitle.gif" width=200 height=40 border=0></a> <p align="center"><FONT SIZE=-1>Copyright (c) 2006 by Timeless Spirit Magazine. All articles are the copyright of the particular writers and cannot be reprinted without their expressed permission. All rights reserved. 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