There was an image years ago that inspired me to write a poem about what I imagined it was saying. Now, many, many years later I tried my hand at my version of the image. Dave, you liked the poem and brought the inspiration to create this image .. hope you like it as well. Meghan's Dragon Beside cool waters of a pond, Rimmed with weathered stone; Beneath the withered limbs of oak, Meghan's Dragon shone. Glistening in the morning sun, Head laid on the ground; Resting now with dawn's first light, Awake to any sound. While in the castle on the hill, Not too far away, In a tall, old bed, draped in lace, Princess Meghan lay. Shrugging off sleep's last faint ties, Eyes blinking with the light; Her dreams of flight on Dragon's wings, Fading with the night. Then quickly from her bed she slips, To the window on a run; For one last glimpse of Dragon's hide, Gleaming in the sun. Then Meghan's Dragon blinks his eyes, And fades in shadows deep; Until the Princess dreams again, And wakes him from his sleep. ©Skip Maslan 1982