Armour
 
However distressed, a damsel isn’t always glad
to be rescued.  Sometimes a fire-breathed dragon’s
 
lounge-lizard lure can be strangely attractive.  How
his scales shimmer, are cool to the touch.  And though
 
it is never wise to marry a reptile, an honourable knight
is, basically, dull.  He doesn’t quite get the thrill of being
 
chained to rocks.  He’s a bit too obsessed with armour,
the latest engineering.  Adjusting and polishing.
 
And often, though only in private, she weeps
for the breath of danger, that hot, consuming kiss.

Veronica Zundel

If you have any comments on this poem,  Veronica Zundel would be pleased to hear from you.