Wiry, Dragon … Poem by Mark Heathcote

A magpie-cawed
hopping along the roadside verge
betwixt, flight and fear
but knowing neither one
And then the thought arose.
'Should I take it as a pet? '
This wiry, dragon
with flames of white-
appearing; out of black-chainmail.

But, such virulent blades of flashing steel-
could plough a road through a field
of tranquillity, so, I shooed it off
back like some mighty, Gorgon
back into its shrubbery,
without the safety of a lance
I hoped it would take its leave,
and join - Joan of Arc-
amid another century back in France.