Little Queen.

This is my original work but is based upon the copyrited works and worlds of Anne McCaffrey.

Little Queen.
___________________________

Little Queen of Golden scale,
surveyed her work that all was well.
She’d laid the last and earned a rest.
She curled around her precious nest.

The day was warm, the surf close by.
With beach as bed she closed her eyes.
She slowly sighed and drifted deep,
and flew in thermals made of sleep.

She dreamed a dream of sand and sun.
Of fish and waves, of games and fun.
But then her dreams grew dark with fate.
She shook them off and jerked awake.

She knew that something dread drew near.
She scanned the sky and saw with fear,
An ancient foe had dared to stir
And threaten those who looked to her.

Like silver rain it fell to sea
But closer still it moved to be.
All her heart said she must fly
And flame this peril from the sky

She flashed between toward cliffs of old
where might be found what memory told.
The rock to chew to stave off death,
and meet this foe with fiery breath.

Alarm! Alarm! Thread falls near!
Stand with me, defend my dear!
Only three answered her plea.
With bellies stoked, they watched the sea.

The one to whom the eggs were laid.
He would come, would not be swayed,
by cries of other queens in need.
Surely hers he’d choose to heed.

As the deadly rain drew near,
her mate, sadly, did not appear.
And so, just four, they faced the thread,
with hearts of fire and eyes of red

Alas the time to flee or fire,
was upon, the need so dire.
They bravely flamed and seared the threat.
The eggs survived, the need was met.

But thick the thread fell on that day.
In tangles, clumps and sheets of grey.
The blue was first to flash between.
Followed soon by brown and green.

They’d gone to freeze their scores away,
but none returned to join the fray.
She had no time to sing or mourn.
Alone she fought for those unborn.

Then searing pain pierced golden hide.
She turned her flame on her own side.
She dared not leave, her eggs were all.
She burned her wounds and flamed the fall.

She watched the thread drop all around.
Bravely though she stood her ground.
Her flame was spent, she had no more.
Now nothing stood ‘tween eggs and score.

A wicked tangle from above,
came down to end those laid with love.
A breath before it found the shell,
It turned to ash and harmless fell.

A flash of bronze, a tongue of flame.
Her mate arrived, at last he came!
He dodged and dove and wheeled flamed.
He seared the thread till none remained.

The fall once past he settled near,
and crooned his sorrow to his dear.
A world away he’d heard her cry,
and rushed to fight there by her side.

She furled her wings and showed her mate,
the ones for which they’d tempted fate.
Unaware of dangers braved.
The precious eggs lay safe, unscathed.