(I put this up again on request. It is some years since it went up before so I hope those who saw it before wont mind. )

 

My dragon husband

Lives on tobacco,

Consumes all the matches

And breathes smoke on me all night in bed.

 

My dragon husband

Has fire in his belly,

And roars at the radio.

Flames of his anger devour the television commentary.

 

My dragon husband

Prowls over his land,

Muttering to his thirsty tomatoes,

Turning over the wealthy soil;

Pulling out pearls of potatoes,

Blood red beetroot,

And hot carrot gold.

 

My dragon husband

Curls up under the mountain of his duvet,

Hoarding the hot water bottle.

Heavy with the long night’s pondering

He sleeps the day down;

And, as the sun sets,

Like a flash of scales and taloned wings,

He goes, bright and jaunty,

Weilding a long cue,

Into the dragon dance of his misspent youth

In smoky snooker halls

 

On some fresh morning

As the mist lifts off a winding lane of water,

Between humps of hawthorn and tumbled brambles,

You may see: a wing tipped curve of brolly;

Green gumboot feet;

Breath like smoke;

And a flask, beside a dish of worms.

 

It is my dragon husband

Crouched over his line,

Hunting the swift, cold demons of the water world;

His deep set eyes

Lost in a wordless dream of dragon land.