By Scott Bailey © 2014

A pewter dragon in the dust
Some curling chains turned to rust
Some old bones stacked in line
A bone comb with a broken tine

Ritual gifts or just waste
Theorise with too much haste
Maybe let the question go
Maybe let the mystery grow

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Beacons of hope in darkness
Shining from afar
Reaching out to guide us
But one is fitful and passing
The other faithfully burns
And as always
Nature surpasses invention
The beacon of life shines on

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams