Photo by Jacqueline CaseyThere may be dragons in that soul-less flight
where harpies; hovering aloft her bed,
born of a spell that chills the wicked night
and winters in her heart some unknown dread.
There may be dragons in the hate-filled gloom:
a whistling as the icy wind now drones.
As thundering is heard; impending doom
may crack the branches of the empire’s thrones.
Oh, seek to know the reason they are here.
The slow roll and the glaring eyes proclaim
love’s mated with a devil’s crushing leer.
There’s mystery; their birth is foreordained.
There may be dragons in the frozen night
as all those kingdoms hold their breath in fright.
(this poem influenced by “Game of Thrones”…)
More description. It’s like you’re too worried about the iambic pentameter
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Meter is important to me. And yes, I’m probably constricted by so closely adhering to it. But, that is part of the challenge. I am not a ‘free verse’ person. I like the confinement of form. I want my poems to ‘have good bones’.
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