Part of the charm of the Chat area is that people leave stories or poems there from time to time. These contributions live on the page for moments or hours, depending on activity.
Quill is a doyen of the chat group. (Look it up!). She has woven a few stories around some other regulars, some ideas that come up in chat, and her own (wild) imagination.
They chased butterflies together in the sun, Acatasbel and George in their own unique style. Acatasbel's sharp kitten eyes would spot the prey, a large golden butterfly quietly sitting on a flower. Her kitten's tail boldly twitching steady and slow as she makes her way through the tall grasses. Cautiously she moves licking her chops once in anticipation. Almost there now, one more step closer, another step. She draws her haunches under her in preparation of a leap. Small kittenish muscles coil ready for release. She tastes the minutes of play she'll have before the butterfly finally succumbs to her mighty little warrior's claws. Then as flash-lightening she leaps sure of her prey and is caught in mid-flight!
A strong fast jaw grabs the kitten in its lunge. Acatasbel disappears inside the cavernous mouth of George. George sits back on his haunches and then smiles one of those dragon smiles of his. Presently the golden butterfly takes wing and gently lands on his nose. Then several other butterflies from the meadow flit over to join the first. As if that were not enough the field empties of butterflies all flying over to land on George's head.
Stepping from the Inn to toss a pail of water out the door to water the roses, Lady Q stops and stares at the spectacle. "How do you do that George?"
He lazily turns his head towards the Lady and replies with a mouth full of kitten, "Ahuhnitgfoinsgime." "Now George, you know I don't understand Gaelic. In English please." With one mighty 'Phhhhtooooey' George spits out the kitten. "Horrible hair ball! Hate them. Makes me sneeze!"
At the sudden jolt the butterflies take wing and hover like a cloud over the dragon. He nods his head and the multi-colored cloud disperses into the meadow.
Lady Q quickly puts her finger under George's nose, "The last time you sneezed you caught the field on fire. Behave yourself!" "I was behaving, Lady Q. It is yon maiden who was not." He motioned with his head in the kitten's direction. "Even now she goes back to the hunt." "Well we can't have that now can we George. How about if we just lift the kitten to your back and you entertain her with the flicking of your tail?" "Of course," he mumbles. "My tail was made for nothing other than the entertainment of this little upstart." Laughing heartily at the dragon's complaint, Lady Q drapes an arm around his neck. "That was wonderful what you did with the butterflies." "Dragon magic." He eyes her red hair speculatively. "Would you like a pretty bonnet of them, Lady Q?" She smiles radiantly. "You need not ask twice, George. Yes!" "Sit here quiet beside me."
Complying, Lady Q folds her legs under her and sits spreading her skirts about in the grass. "Okay, ready." "I said quiet, little one." With that the dragon closed his eyes and became very still himself. Presently, the butterflies gathered from the meadow and darted to Lady Q. A small blanket of butterflies landed onto her head. Little wings beating became still and outstretched giving shade to her face.
And this was how Lady Q got her butterfly bonnet to shade her face for the afternoon.
Today Lady Q decided to install plumbing in the Tir with the help of George of course. It being 501 AD, this idea did not go well with the locals. They called it witchcraft, devil's work and other various sundries of names. But Lady Q was determined. She recently had a dream where she took a shower in a tub that had something called faucets (French word) attached to it. Water, hot and cold fell freely from the faucets into the tub.
Lady Q set about gathering tools for the project. That in itself was quite a feat. She was not familiar with the tools that were available. Eyeing them suspiciously with thoughts of...well we won't go into that. Suffice it to say Lady Q was determined no matter what the outlook to get on with the affair.
For the water pipes she used hollow giant elk horns and had to concentrate on following the main line of the horn because there were so many jutting branches. Each branch had to be plugged with tar so the water would flow on a somewhat straight course. It took from very first light until mid morning to fit the horns together with tar and plug the holes. When finished the creation looked like a crawling thin creature with appendages all over itself.
Wiping sweat from her brow, the Lady Q stopped for a flask of cool water from the stream behind the Tir. Splashing some on her face, she sat and rested listening to a pair of larks nesting in the hawthorn.
Presently George came along with a bowl of fresh, ripe, juicy strawberries. "Ah, Lady Q there you are. Look what was left in the Tir, Strawberries! Here try one." He sat next to her and held the bowl before her.
"They look delicious George, thank you." Lady Q daintily took a berry and bit into it. Juice dripped down her chin to her neck, but too tired to wipe it away, she let it be and took another bite.
As dragons are wont to do from time to time strictly out of politeness, George lapped the juice by stroking his tongue across her chin and down her neck. He smiled his dragon smile and gazed at the sky. "Mmmmmm, I'd say those were excellent strawberries, Lady Q."
"And I am afraid that is all you will get of them my dragon friend. I find them too delicious to share."
"Then I shall be content to lick your chin, milady."
Together they sat in the shade of the hawthorn by the stream one lazily eating strawberries and the other politely licking berry juice.
The day wore on and the plumbing adventure forgotten until another story.
Colleen sat in a comfortable chair in the Tir gazing at the kitten in her lap. Her long, wavy, brown hair fell softly to her shoulders. The sunlight that poured through the doorway caught flecks of red and gold making a most pleasing picture of contentment. Her blue eyes twinkled at Acatasbelle who purred merrily on her lap. The kitten stopped purring long enough to take a swipe at her singed fur which was a leftover from her adventure in the dragon's mouth.
Colleen's attention was diverted by Lady Q as she walked by the doorway. Her curiosity too great for her to sit still she stood gently brushing the kitten from her lap. Moving over to the open window, she could see the Lady Q setting about on her great plumbing installation adventure. Raising a lovely, shaped eyebrow in skepticism, Colleen called out, "Lady Q, are you sure you know what you are about?"
Pausing briefly, the lady in question straightened up and stretched her back. "Oh most definitely, Colleen. I had a dream about this. Really, I do know what I am doing." She smiled a Lady Q smile. "Well I was just wondering you know. The adventure we had with the quintessence was rather explosive if I remember." Colleen leaned way out the window in order to see Lady Q by the east corner of the house. She pressed her lips in a penchant pout. "You remember well Colleen." Lady Q blushed. "But I know what I'm doing here, I assure you." Colleen slipped out the window, her slender legs easing her drop to the ground. Mumbling under her breath she commented, "That's what you said last time."
Lady Q returned to her business at hand and was rather pleased at Colleen's company. Suddenly thinking out loud she mentioned, "I need some hose Colleen. Any idea where I can find some?" Lady Q eyed the lovely Colleen standing in the sun. "Oh no, Lady Q. I shall keep mine on." She began backing up. "'Tis not ladylike to be bare legged." With that she turned and ran back into the Inn.
"Mmmmph," Lady Q laughed as she knelt back in the dirt with her make do pipe of giant elk horn, "She shall be shedding her hose quick enough to take one of my showers." About then the dragon, George flew by observing the strange apparatus next to Lady Q. It reminded him of his cousin dragons from the south, skinny with many legs. He circled lazily in the air studying what the good Lady Q was doing. Finally he shook his scales which emitted a pretty tune filling the air about her. "Music for m'lady," he called down, "And how goes the plumbing venture?" Carefully he landed and stepped gingerly so as not to disturb the thin, crazy apparatus that went every which way. "I've brought those things you asked for." He told her.
"Good." Scratching her head, she went over and plopped a kiss on his forehead. "Oh George, you came just when I needed you. I have a little problem here." A rumbling in his chest precluded his merry dragon's laugh. "I would say you have a rather large problem here." Lady Q stopped what she was doing to quickly stomp out the sparks that were setting the nearby grass on fire. A dragon's laugh was always accompanied by flaming sparks and a stray one touched the backside of her skirt. Unaware that she was on fire, she grumbled to the dragon, "George, you are making my little problem into a big problem. Now stop it!" He casually rubbed his muzzle over her smoldering backside and put the fire out. "Well, let us see what can be done to make your problem right itself."
"I have to get this giant elk horn pipe under the house," she explained. "And I have no way to lift it." "Is that what that is?" The dragon whimsically asked. "I thought it might be one of my cousins." "What are you talking about, George?" She put her hands on her hips and scoffed at his obtuseness. "I need to raise the Inn so I can get the great elk horn pipes under there. I don't know anything about your cousins.""Ahh, then that is where I can help." He shifted his weight to his tail and thought a minute. "Are you ready for your installation? You have everything?"
"Yes, I believe so, George. You brought the hose and the French faucets?""Certainly, m'lady." Lady Q looked at the Inn and then looked at George. He was taller than the Inn and looked to outweigh it by a good amount of stones. "Then I guess there are no two ways around it. You will just have to lift the Inn up off the ground." Sighing in resignation, George replied, "I figured as much, m'lady." George turned his tail to the Inn which was made of mud, daub and straw. He swallowed his doubts about the possibility of the building crumbling. He began to slowly pry the building away from the ground. When that side was done he systematically went to each of the other sides and loosened them.
Colleen stuck her head out the window and yelled at the Lady Q, "What are you doing? The Inn is falling down!" "'Tis fine, I assure you Colleen. The Inn is falling up not down!" She smiled, "Come out and watch. George is quite good at this." Colleen gasped, "You are making George do this earth shaking event?" "Of course. Look how easy it is for him." "That poor dragon. Lady Q, I have my doubts about this." Colleen, with Acatasbelle precariously perched on her shoulder stomped to a safe distance to watch. She scuffed her leather shoes in the dirt and bit her lower lip in consternation. Amused at the picture of Colleen sulking, Lady Q only shook her head and smiled her knowing smile. By this time George had the Inn resting on his back and the ground underneath exposed.
"Look Colleen! Treasures," Lady Q squealed. Crawling under the house and between George's legs she began examining the contents of the ground. "Lady Q, you shouldn't go rushing off like that," Colleen called from a safe distance eyeing George and the Inn balanced precariously on his back. "Come back here, Lady Q. I don't think it's safe." Popping her head up she exclaimed, "Look Colleen I think I found a halberd. And over here are some mugs and plates, and a few coins." "If you don't come out of there, I'm afraid the Inn will fall on you!" Now Colleen was very worried as she saw the Inn beginning to tip to one side of George's back. "M'lady," he called just then, "Do you think we could get to the business of plumbing and leave the treasures for another story?" "Oh yes, of course, George. Sorry." Lady Q went about dragging her giant elk horn apparatus under the Inn. "Colleen, help guide the pipe there by your feet!" She excitedly called.
"Hurry, m'lady." George scowled. "The house is not very steady." "Just about got it, George!" Standing, she quickly attached the giant elk horn pipe to the underside of the Inn and then backed out from under the whole ordeal. "Okay lower the Inn, George. Careful now." Waving her arms about and hopping on one foot then the other, Lady Q did an exciting little jig. George's scales happened to shake out a accompanying tune. Down the Inn came to rest on strategically placed foundation boulders. The boulders were George's idea since Lady Q could not get pass the running water part of her plan.
"To the stream now!" Lady Q directed her small retinue of believers. "One more step and then we shall have running water." Wading in mud and water, her skirts billowing around her in the current, Lady Q fumbled with connecting the hose to a pump (another of George's idea). "I don't think you will be needing a shower after the bath you are getting now, m'lady." Colleen pointed out. "In some parts of the world," George observed, "women pay a lot of coins for mud baths such as you are getting now." "There! It is a fate accomplished, my faithful friends. The hose is connected." Slipping and sliding towards the shore, Lady Q excitedly continued, "Let's try it out!"
Meanwhile back at the Inn (several meters away) a crowd gathered to watch the great adventure. Questions abounded, disbelief prevailed, and Lady Q was suspect of all sorts of enchantment. Nevertheless, the good lady strode towards the Inn like a knight on a quest. Her faithful band of two helpers moseying along in her wake. She brushed a strand hair behind an ear intent on success.
"Make way please," she asked the good people in the crowd. (She really needn't asked, they parted way for her in fear of her enchantment.) A hush fell as the crowd watched and listened to Lady Q give instructions to Colleen. "Colleen," she began, "stand here by the east corner and turn this knob when I give the signal from inside the Inn." "And what signal would that be?" Colleen cautiously asked fearing an answer. "I shall say the word, 'now', and you will turn the knob." She smiled encouragingly. "You understand?" "Yes, of course, m'lady. I'm not daft!" Colleen mumbled to George just then who was sitting nearby on his haunches. "Not daft like some people I know." "'Tis best to humor her, Colleen." He replied while gazing at the clouds in the sky as if the answer to the enigma of Lady Q floated there.
Waiting patiently by the east corner of the Inn, Colleen twirled her hair in her fingers and hummed a tune that George soon followed with music from his scales. From inside the Inn there came loud crashing sounds, great rumblings, and a few bangs as if Lady Q were hitting a radiator with a pipe wrench (but of course since neither had been invented yet, we know she couldn't possibly be hitting a radiator with a pipe wrench).
The Inn trembled, the walls shook, and bits of daub crumbled. The noises intensified, and the crowd drew back in fear. Loyal patrons seriously wondered about changing their patronage. Then Lady Q called out to Colleen, "Now!"
Colleen as was wont her nature finished the tune she was humming which took several more moments. Then reached for the knob. First she turned it left. Not happy with that, she turned it right. Pouting petulantly because nothing happened, she pulled it up, then down. The poor knob confused by all this, fell off in self defense of the good Colleen's efforts. The Inn promptly sprouted water from all it's orifices and that not being enough made new ones. Water gushed everywhere spraying the people in the crowd. It surged, it spewed, it spurted, and finally it jettisoned the Inn upward into the sky. The water pushed the good lady through a hole in the straw roof and bounced her merrily along. Lady Q rode her self-made geyser. Hair and clothes plastered to her body. Legs and arms madly waving about. All the while grinning a great satisfying Lady Q grin. George flew up to the top of the water spout and watched. She waved to him and he smiled back.
Eventually he pointed out that the stream would run dry if she continued her shower. "You might like to come down, Lady Q, before you drain the stream of it's water." "Yes, you are right, George." Then she frowned, "But I don't quite know how." "Mmm that could be a problem. What about the faucets? Can you turn them?" He patiently asked. "Can't reach them," she replied nearing tears. "Do you suppose you could give me a ride down?" "Splendid idea, Lady Q." He flew closer and offered assistance. "Hop on my back." George gently floated back to the ground. He settled her near the oak tree in the side yard and went over to the stream to disconnect the pump.
Colleen mirthfully ran to Lady Q holding her sides and laughing. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist and her hose were flapping at her ankles. She danced from one foot to the other. "That was a splendid shower, m'lady! Could I be the next one to ride atop the Inn. I had no idea that showers could be so exciting!" Lady Q smiled, "I had no idea either, Colleen. Certainly you may take the next one. Just call over to George to turn the pump on."
So the afternoon was taken up with showers atop the roof of the Inn for all and sundry and this was Lady Q's great plumbing adventure.
Pixie returned to the Tir after many months in the far country. Happily she skipped into the Inn singing one of her bawdy drinking songs yearning for a mug of honeywine. For the Pixie loved her honeywine and bawdy songs more than all the clover in Ireland.
Today, though, the Inn was deserted. Everyone was at the boat races down by the stream. Even the Inn's congenial host, Accasbel was knee deep in mud and water racing his boat with the best of them. He carried a pint in one hand and nudged his boat with the other. Occasionally getting confused and nudging up stream instead of down. Lady Q stood at the finish line waiting to bestow a kiss upon the winner. Her long red hair and ribbons blowing like streamers in the breeze.
Perplexed by the quiet of the Inn, Pixie sprinkled some magic pixie dust about herself and floated up to the rafters to ponder the silence. Her little brimless, pointed hat bounced up against the ceiling as she floated while her little brown wings fluttered softly in the shadows. Her brown eyes (the same color as her wings) gazed about the Inn below taking in all the changes and modifications such as burn marks, holes in the walls, and something that looked like faucets. She scrunched up her Pixie face and crossed a leg over a knee and an elbow over an elbow and proceeded to count her toes. She had a feeling one might be missing and that perhaps she left it in the far country.
When she finished counting, for counting is very thirsty work, Pixie very much desired a mug of honeywine but did not know how to get it on her own. Previously the genial host, Accasbel would always have a supply on hand in a pitcher on the bar. She could see the empty pitcher now from her position in the rafters. There was a spider web in it, but not a drop of honeywine. Extremely disappointed, Pixie sat singing sadly to herself, "Honeywine, honeywine is the stuff to drink! I can shoulder the sky and turn me self pink!" Over in the side yard, George slept in the shade of the oak tree. Boat races did not excite him so he stayed home to take a nap. His deep slumber was disturbed by a sad little song coming from the Inn. One eyelid opened slightly at the intrusion. He yawned a large cavernous yawn and rose to investigate.
Because he was larger than the Inn, George could only squint and look in a window with one eye. He saw a sorrowful little Pixie in the rafters. Large tear drops descended down her face and splashed loudly on the wooden floor beneath. George saw the tears and his heart filled with magic. He knew instantly that he must help the Pixie in the rafters. Very softly he shook his scales so their music would buoyantly ride the air. As each tear fell from the Pixie's cheek, the melody the dragon created became a musical downward spiral for the tear to ride. Soon the Pixie noticed that her tears were not making their usual sound. Instead of sad sounding tears they were happy musical tears. Music she had never heard before that lifted her tears and made them dance in the sunlight coming from a hole in the roof. Enthralled she sat silently watching.
A pretty tune made its way from the windows to the rafters to catch the tears. Joining with the descent, the music gently swirled and begin to rise. It did a series of dips and whirls making merry with the tear. Pixie laughed then. A happy little 'Tee Hee'. She floated down from the rafters to scrutinize this new creature that made her tears dance. "Hello," she smiled at the eye in the window. "Hello," George replied. "How did you do that," Pixie asked. "I played my music." Through the window, he blinked his violet eye. "Why are you crying?"
The dragon's question about crying reminded her to sniffle a few times and wipe her nose on her sleeve. "I am crying because there's not a drop of honeywine for my thirsty throat." She looked about and then said, "Accasbel always kept honeywine for me." "Do you like this honeywine?" George rolled his eye. "I've never had it before." "Tee Hee!" Pixie laughed gaily now, her tears all forgotten. "It's the best drink in all of Ireland." "Then you should have some!" George smiled his lazy dragon smile. "I know where it's kept!" "Tee Hee," Pixie jumped and turned around excited now that she was to get her drink.
"Do you see that box behind the bar?" Pixie looked over her shoulder at the white box behind the bar. She nodded her headed and her hat bobbed. "Inside that box is your honeywine." "Ohhhh, then 'tis a magic box?" Her little feet barely touched the ground as she hurried over there. Sighing the dragon explained about the box, "The box is Lady Q's idea. You see she had this dream about a white box that was very cold inside. She told it to me one day and asked if I could find it for her. I did and brought it back." Pixie clapped her hands. "You are such a good dragon," she exclaimed. "Is it cold inside?" "No," he chuckled careful not to set the Inn on fire. "There seems to be something missing" "And what would that be?" Pixie was puzzled now. But that is usually a state one gets into when one talks of the Lady Q. "Something called electricity." "And where does one get it?" Intrigued, Pixie forgot about her honeywine, but just for a moment. "One gets it from the year of our Lord," he gazed upward looking for the answer in the clouds. Explaining electricity to a Pixie was not easy. "Oh," Pixie nodded wisely, "'lectriciy comes from the year of our Lord." She smiled. "It must be magic then."
She opened the white box and found many pitchers of warm honeywine. This was going to be a happy day afterall she decided and poured herself a mug. She looked at the dragon and decided to pour him one too, and teach him the magic of honeywine. George never had honeywine before and decided he liked it! Pixie happily returned to the magic box for refills.
"Yes, I quite agree Pixie," George smiled widely exposing several teeth. "Honeywine is magic of the best kind," George said after several pitchers of the drink.
"Good," Pixie clapped her hands in glee. "Now we shall have a song." She promptly began singing: "Me Father makes book on the corner, Me mother makes second hand gin, Me sister makes love for a downer, My God how the money rolls in. Rolls in, rolls in, My God how the money rolls in. Me brother's a poor missionary, He saves fallen women from sin, He'll save you a blonde for a shilling, My God how the money rolls in. Rolls in, rolls in, My God how the money rolls in."
George giggled at the song. Pixie gave him more honeywine and sang another chorus. George added his deep dragon's voice and sang with Pixie. Together they sat singing and drinking. George on the outside of the window looking in and Pixie on the inside of the window looking out. They were a merry pair laughing, singing, drinking, and making the walls of the Inn shake. Pixie danced over the floor onto the tables and chairs and even onto George's nose. They spent the remainder of the afternoon drinking all the honeywine in the white box behind the bar and singing every bawdy song that the Pixie knew.
This is how Lady Q found the pair when she returned to the Inn from the boat races. George was so happy to see her, he licked her ear and she smiled a Lady Q smile. "Let's go flying," he said. "I don't think you're in any shape to fly, George," Lady Q laughed. "You are as drunk as a Pixie on honeywine." "Yep," he nodded, "sure am" he smiled at her and sang one of Pixie's songs, "Just hop on my back and we can go flying."
Shaking her head Lady Q looked at the Pixie who had by now fallen asleep in the rafters. She looked at the sky and then mischievously at George. A ride in the sky would be wonderful she thought. But we will save that story for another time.
Lady Q reclined against the Dragon's side watching the mid-night stars. He turned his head and gazed at her with his violet eyes. "It is the night the dragon's dance, m'lady Q, June thirtieth. That is why I sang last night to call the dragons to the meadow here beside the Tir."
He stopped to scratch his snout on his foreleg and quietly asked, "See the tiny lights flickering across the meadow?" Yes, those are the fireflies, George." Lady Q sat watching mesmerized as the lights blinked and moved in intricate dances merrily chasing one another. The dragon laughed softly and nudged his companion. "No, M'lady. Not tonight. Those are the Irish fairies come to watch and add their joy to the upcoming event." A slow smile of unbelief spread across her face. "No George, they aren't fairies, really?" "I shall call one for you to hold." With that he mewed into the night and one light charted a zigzag pattern from the further reaches of the meadow.
It hovered before the Lady Q and then reclined in the palm of her hand. It's tiny face grinning from ear to ear at the human woman's gasped response. The fairy blew a kiss into her surprised face and darted away. Observing the event, the dragon told her, "There will be a tiny freckle there in the morning, Lady Q." She softly laughed in glee, "I've been branded by the fairies, George. Will I become Fey?" "Aah, ye be Fey already, girl. Ye talk to dragons." Her blush was lost in the night, but he still saw it, yet discreetly said nothing. "Here in a minute they come. Watch."
Together they turned toward the heavens. Straining her eyes and ears to see and hear, Lady Q remained breathless. Afraid that even a tiny breath would disturb the wonder of the affair. And then they came in twos and threes in tens and twelve's in fifties and hundreds. The dragons came to dance over the meadow at the Tir. They kept their flames silent not wishing to be observed by humans. As undulating waves the dragons swelled through the air above the meadow ascending and descending in rhythmic order. The air smothered with the scent of mimosa whooshed all around creating eddies and pools of currents and breezes. Wings opened and closed in dragon melody. Their bodies swerved and diverged in weaving patterns that the eye could not sanely follow.
The dragons majestically arched their bodies then flattened them to arch again. They tucked their heads and rolled under their own legs to ride the air current backwards. They stretched their bodies perpendicular making it look as though they rode their own tails. With no visible signal they formed a line and snaked across the sky rising and falling making a new living entity that existed all on its own. For miles it stretched and circled in upon itself. One dragon followed by another and another, head to tail to head to tail. Many into one and then one into many as they split and radiated into the universe.
The dragon sitting patiently beside Lady Q explained, "This is a traditional ceremony of my species. We are celebrating our continuity." She sighed as the evening slowly returned to normal and the dragons scattered into the winds they created. "Oh George, it's splendid," whispered Lady Q. "It makes me wish I were a dragon." She stroked his neck and placed a gentle kiss behind his ear. "They are all flying away in pairs. Where is your...?" She stopped and saw a solitary tear roll down his cheek. Then he told her, "My mate is held by restraints stronger than I can break." "I'm sorry, George." Putting the pain behind him, he smiled and invited her to fly. "Would you like to fly this evening, milady?" "Would I?" She looked at her companion and then hopefully gushed, "Could I?" "It would be my honor to take you there. Climb up on my back."
Once on, Lady Q wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and with only a nod of his head the dragon became airborne. Bent low over his back she felt one with her mount and together they climbed the skies. He soared to where the oxygen was thin and then free falls back to the distant earth. Lady Q laughs and screams delightedly at the sensations. The air all around tingling her skin.
And this is where we leave the dragon and Lady Q for tonight riding the skies and frolicking in happy harmony.
It came time to dance for the dragon. Lady Q knew this to be true. In the moonlit meadow by the Tir where the wildflowers grew with a scent so clear. Her laughter calls to the sleeping dragon disturbing his dreams of tea and oranges.
Soft night sounds follow her across the meadow. Silver dew clings to her feet as she takes the pins from her hair. Stepping from her skirt she leaves it on the ground folded with care. Creamy bare legs washed in moonlight run to the waiting dragon. He lifts her high overhead and they thrill in the night as they touch. And they thrill in the night as they touch.
Here in the field where there is no restraint, dragon and lady give way to the singing words of their hearts. She dances for him suspended in time and then lets her body flow like the wind through chimes. He asks for more and the lady pleases him with tender embraces and golden kisses. His words whisper across her bare breasts that she will always return to her dragon in the meadow by the Tir.
And they thrill in the night as they touch, and they thrill in the night. She will always return to her dragon in the meadow by the Tír.
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