The Sunday Poem: The Dragons and Me

The dragons and me, well, we used to argue.
We had these fantastically frightening rows.
I tell you this to explain, not alarm you.

They wore fedoras and chomped old cigars,
And liked wearing ponchos on great horny toes.
But really, they loved most going too far.

They’d flame with no motive, follow the stars through,
They’d hoard things for reasons only they know.
I tell you this to explain, not alarm you.

Oh, after, sure, apologies offered, eyes all a-sorrow.
It was just in their nature to carry on so.
How the dragons and me used to argue, you know!

The day they departed, they kept secrets from me:
The reasons they left, the ebb and the flow.
I tell you this to explain, can’t you see?

As they booked one-way passage from Earth on to Mars,
I wanted to travel, go too far, where they go.
But no, they said, no, you’re not made for the stars.

I still love far countries, though for now I am for you.
You understand now, the ebb? Hold me close.
The dragons and me, well, we used to argue,
And I still can’t quite tell how far I can go.