Twenty Dragons, Twenty Stars

Twenty stars sting a veil, velvet colors ripple in their silver light,
Midnight lies between dusk and dawn; thus the number twenty sighs.

Under twenty stars so bright, twenty dragons stir in the night. Each born of hope and dream and loss; tails made of fairy tale, born of the mind of childhood. Now that girlhood has all but fled will there still be more dragons to fill our heads? 

Twenty trees rest in the hills, surveying the hillside. And though my childhood has past, I can not forget the blush of green grass, withing the tall blades, dragons hide. 

Twenty years have molded her, a girl of simple finesses. She is not clever nor full of wit, nor is she so well learned, but in her world the dragons flit, and the moonbeams stir.

As the grown world presses, she shies away, twenty can you please, wait another day; for twenty trees are whispering and twenty dragons pleading, for me to sit and dream some more, as above twenty stars alight the shore of ever pressing night. 



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I'm feeling a tad glum about my birthday coming up; the years just keep flying by and I have so little so show for the ones I have spent so fruitlessly. Anyhow I sort of drew this as a gift to myself, as a reminder that no matter what happens I can still remain true to myself on the inside.