The rain passed over, and each one of the group
convereged at the top of the hill
with the pumpkin on top, smelling like soup
which was making them green at the gills

Each one looked around, and was thus introduced
to the new members and friends
even though they were wary of the dragon (but who
wouldn't be, if they had any sense?)

Percival Pink turned a bit red at the cheeks
when somebody mentioned his name,
and the Painter looked thoughtfully mind and meek
as he pondered his future of fame.

I hope no one thinks that I am copying the other people (like Heather or Lori Ann) who have written stories like this. I wrote this very late at night (about 10:30, to be exact) and my brain was rather fried. I had to keep the story in the visinity of 500 to 600 words and I couldn't write a "normal" fairy-tale about serious things like that so I wrote this instead. I have been hesitant about putting it up, but like I said, I wasn't copying so here it is!!! :)

The Absence Song
2-27-07

The Dragons are all gone, m’lord,
All broken, cold and stone
Their fires have long since burnt out
This world no more their home

The Dragons have all left, m’lord,
Dead, or flown away
But where they’ve gone no one can know
Where they now dwell, no man can say

The Dragons fly no more, m’lord,
Their wings are shattered shards
No more they soar before the moon
Or inspire royal bards

*Prologue*
~Battle Cry~
Fuhlay whipped his sword out from its sheath that hung on his right leg, and the long silver blade caught the midday sun and it seemed to glitter.