The White Dragon
In the forest’s deepest hollow,
I felt sleepy from my fire’s glow.
Drawn to the flames’ rhythmic dance,
My mind falls into a captive trance.
Against the night’s ‘blackdrop’ a shape forms,
Of a dragon from my homeland forlorn.
Throughout my being the dragon’s cry,
Awakens within me my oriel eye.
A call to raise the standard and fight.
The white dragon the English spirit ignites.