Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Dragon Head

Crystal Dragon

Their days were as smooth as honeyed tea,
shimmering moonstone beaches, their nights,
but love could not preclude destiny,
once the dark dream came to light.

She spent the dawn hour staring out to sea,
warmed by her shawl of magic blue shells,
the prophecy sent her swimming through time,
until the sea spray broke the spell.

Her vision had been of unearthly fire,
and of smoke that was spun from molten gold,
gently, she woke the crystal dragon,
and said it was time to go.

She unlocked a seashell from her shawl,
pressed it into his palm and she smiled,
she said, to remember that once I was real,
and with a kiss she became the sky.