The Snow Rose
The rose of snow stands above all other flowers and blooms an eternal spring.
I wish to hold her. But my hands are unworthy and guard thorns will sting.
I would take the pain just to caress her gentle petals, softer than snowflakes.
But I fear I would harm her. Or set her on fire and melt her like a reckless drake.
She would surely wilt if held tween my sharp claws.
Why was I not born a flower too? Why must I have paws?
Teach me to be gentle, teach me how to hold her, O kind green.
So I may kiss the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Scorned
When she flirted with other stallions, it hurt but I tried not to mind.
She is a free mare, and I am just a dragon, rougher than a bear.
She is a sun. She belongs with the clouds in the sky.
I am a rock. I’m lucky when she grants me her shine.
No matter how I feel, she deserves to be happy
Even if that means living without me.
The Three Words
What are they?
Those special words?
Every lady delights,
Every man stutters,
Every creature needs
Else they decay?
Why struggle I?
I feel it.
Why not say?
I am afraid
She will reject
My heart’s confession
And break me.
Is she cruel?
No. Her kindness
Goes beyond understanding.
Is she vain?
No. She loves
Others above herself.
I cannot falter.
Time marches on
With or without
Me, so speak.
Heart. To say
Those Three Words.
I Love You.