Riding Gloves

Once, in the vast history of the Earth,

A kind-hearted prince Phillip, owner of jade eyes and silk tunics to match,

Found himself convinced of the worst crime possible:

Visit an ancient witch in a thicket, who provided a spell with a catch.

 

Maleficent saw what was to come, what would tear her apart,

 

And cursed the prince to never hold a sword,

 

As to prevent him from thrusting one into her heart.

 

His servants were distraught, shaken to the bone,

At the imposing dragon asleep in the prince’s nightgown the morning next.

Staff scampered for the doors and left the tined being to wake alone.

The prince was rather dazzled with the strength of his barbed tail and canines, so

He fled the castle to conquer a cave and build himself a new throne.

 

Many offered their solutions to his ailment: magical creams and balms.

 

Phillip the dragon refused their suggestions confidently.

 

This form wasn’t a curse, for it gave him no qualms,

 

 

No, he was finally free.

 

A princess, Aurora, curtsied to the dragon Phillip in her riding leathers and gloves,

 

They were once a protection against spinning needles, and now, a badge of her skill,

 

She’d bored of the palace horses, and sought a more capable mount,

 

The dragon accepted her challenge, to her obvious thrill.

 

Phillip grew fond of her slowly, a timid love that bloomed in his chest.

 

Aurora remained hardheaded, sometimes to the point of annoyance, but

 

Her words were rarely surly and her grins made him feel blessed.

 

Could love be equally so mundane and extraordinary?

 

For them, love wasn’t fragile nor immediate in nature

 

It was a powerful bond that tied together their fates

 

They discovered comfort in disobedience toward complacency

 

And, together, faced a world where their next adventure awaits.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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