by Liadan © 1996
Fairies danced on the roof
Of the Hall of the Mountain King
'Twas Midsummer Eve and magick floated
Circling the tiny ones like a ring
Of smokey mist that wound
Like a snickety snake
Curling and coiling,
Winking and blinking,
Sifting its way down the mountain's side.
The magick snuck down to the bottom somehow
And found the Black Dragon's cave:
He who guards the great door
Of the Mountain King's Hall
Was having a mighty fine snore
At the time and was not very pleased
To have magick come
Nip at his nose.
Tweaking him from his
Phosphorous dreams, it made him sulfurious.
He stomped, and he brayed, spouting
Wonderful flames and obsidian smoke
Through his nose!
His terrible tail was a thrashing machine
That shuddered the walls and the floors
And the doors and trembled
That whole mountain scene!
The faeries all tumbled from the perch at the top
Rolling skittleblit down far below.
"What, ho?!" cried the Mountain King
(his favorite phrase, which he'd
researched in several books)
As he dashed from his throne made
Conpletely of stone
Carved wondrously into a toad.
While he leapt all about avoiding The Tail,
He couldn't believe his eyes!
His marvelous Dragon was snip-snap-and-snaggin'
At a persnickety magickal mist!
"It's those faeries, again!" the King shouted
Quite stern that his peaceful abode
Was upset. "I've had not one night's quiet
Since they've moved in to riot and disturb
Decent folks trying to rest!"
Just then a voice
Like a flute came piping acute
And cut through the howl and the din,
"Who's molesting my subjects?!" the Faerie Queen
Hooted and flew right in the face of the King!
Well, it was love at first sight on that
Midsummer Night as the two stood eyeball to eyeball
Through the thrash and the tumble
The monarches stood humble and quiet for once
In their lives until Dragon and Faeries and
Magickal Mist all stopped where they were
To take stock of this tryst between two
So different and charming creatures that they
Certainly must have been meant each
For the other when lovers and strangers were made.
Now, Faeries still dance on the roof
Of the Hall of the great Mountain King,
And the Black Dragon guards the anthracite doors
That lead to the wonders within.
But tinier footsteps now echo all over
In the tunnels and passages there
As pixie princes and princesses
Gambol and giggle and get into everyone's hair.
That great Mountain Hall
Is enjoyed now by all the gnomes and the faeries
Alike. Prosperous and fat, like a dark, giant cat
It naps out yonder where the earth meets the sky.
The King and Queen live content
All their spare time now spent
Trying to remember the names of their kids.
No harsh words do they vent except
When their slumber is rent
By the ROAR of that Dragon as the sly, slippery
Mist comes a-waggin' it's wickedly tail
On Midsummer's Night!
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