My love he is a dragon,
Fierce and proud and bold,
With scales of bluest morning
To wrap ‘round his precious gold.
His claws, they are like daggers,
And his teeth are long as swords,
All used for the protection
Of the treasure that he hoards.
He flies to me late at night
On his great expanse of wings
To sing me out of hiding
With a voice like that of kings.
His eyes are much like evening,
All blue and gray and brown,
But his gaze, it is so gentle
That I wonder if I’ll drown.
I give to him a present,
And then sadly we must part.
Another jewel for his collection;
Another piece of his love’s heart.