2000 Jennifer Grant

Once in the land of Longago on the shore of Nevermore,
There lived a lonely dragon who survived medieval way.
He was caught up in a daydream of knights and maidens fair,
Because to think of other things was more than he could bear.
His heart was pure and gentle. His spirit tried and true.
He seemed a beast of fierceness to folks like me and you.
One day he simply melted to ashes blown to sea,
And washed across the waters to Abetterplaceto be.
'Twas there among the driftwood he 'rose and flew again.
A thing of winged beauty, an angel born to men.
To those contrite in spirit there comes the noble call.
There is a wounded healer to be born within us all.
The sword of faith is mighty. The fire of hope burns on,
Even in a dragon's heart long after he is gone.
In the Land of Happy Endings in a book not put to pen,
There's love and peace and dreams come true
For all good beasts and men.

August 2003


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