Hidden in the jagged, craggy rocks above the fells,
The black and yawning cavern where the Winged One dwelled.
Desolate, and windswept, a dreary mournful peak
Black as polished ebony, forbidding, cold and bleak.
Cloaked in mist, and rich in local legend I've heard tell,
Where sleeps a fearsome dragon, bewitched by Merlin's spell.
And he will sleep beneath that Tor for long eternity
Unless a maiden, in true grief, sheds tears of sympathy.
She must be pure, and full aware of his cruel, tainted soul.
And at the first light of the day, three glistening tears bestow. Unafraid, she must approach, and drop them one by one
Upon his slumbering countenance, and the spell will be undone.
At least that's how the Legend goes, and what the locals say
In hushed tones to the tourists, every year on holiday.
And told to a young student, staying nearby on the fells,
She decided to climb up the Tor, and see it for herself.
It took her longer than she'd thought,to scale the lower rocks,
But eventually, in waning light, she clambered to the top.
Before her was the entrance to the fabled dragon's lair,
But when she looked around, she found the cave was stark and bare.
There was a dark, oppressive air, inside that dusty cave,
Uncomfortable, and feeling cold, the student turned to leave.
But the mist had fallen thick and fast, blotting out the light
Too perilous to climb back down, she settled for the night.
Exhausted by the upward trek, she slept for quite some time.
And when she woke, to wait for dawn, the Legend came to mind.
Dragons are just animals…..and incapable of spite……
Perhaps man gave them reason to prey on him by night.

She thought about the mighty beast, wounded and afraid,
Hunted, and tormented, and unjustly vilified.
Returning to this gloomy place, safe upon his peak,
Softly, and unnoticed, crystal tears ran down her cheeks.
They fell and rolled into a crack, within the stony floor
Then through the velvet depths they fell, 'til they could fall no more.
One, two, then three, they gently slid along his brow….
Then those three tears, as if on fire, gave off an eerie glow.
Up above, the student said "I'm just a stupid fool,
Upset about a story children tell at nursery school."
Picking up her back-pack, she set off upon her way,
For the mist had cleared, and she could see the first pale shafts of day.
Returning to the cottage, she packed up her books and clothes,
And got ready for her journey, for today she travelled home.
And sitting on the evening train, passing through the moors
She thought she saw a plume of smoke, that rose from Dragon's Tor.
The mist's come down, it can't be smoke, she mused as she sped by.
And as she watched, it curled, and spread, and drifted in the sky.
Perhaps I woke him up, she thought, and couldn't help but smile
At her own imagination, and over-active mind………
Later in the village, a tremor rumbled through the ground;
And the faintest scent of sulphur, seemed to linger all around.
The second tremor set the pots all rattling on the shelf,
"The Winged One's turning over", they joked amongst themselves.
And I, alone wait on the fells, for him to take to flight.
And I have watched ten thousand years in terror of this night.
If he regains his full true strength, my spell will surely fail
He'll resurrect his brethren, and dark chaos will prevail.
For I am Merlin, I'm the Watcher, and a task I must perform.
I must strike that Demon down before he sees the light of dawn.
Tonight I hold the fate of Earth, in these two trembling hands.
I must triumph, I'm the Watcher, and the Guardian of man.

Carol