flight of the dragons
By Baker Street
Early morning on the plains. The sun is breaking red-gold in the east, and the dragons are awakening. They emerge one by one from the caves in the mountains. Once outside, a dragon would spread is wings lazily and stretch them, then he would start to move them into motion slowly.
After a few flaps of his wings in this manner, he is ready to fly. And so the great monsters come out from their caverns one at time, stretch their wings, and take off in flight. The blue mountains become alive with dragons, as they gently take to the skies, their mighty wings a-flapping.
Soon the pink-and-blue morning sky is filled with the wonder of dragons in flight. They soar and fly smoothly on the air-currents, free masters of the skies. They are beautiful to behold as they fly of over the horizon, each in search of his morning meal.
They fly over the plains, their mighty wings carrying them onwards through the sky with ease. The beauty of nature, the glory of unknown fantasies. They fly; they fly, over seas and mountains, the lords of the earth and sky.
Mighty dragons flying, forever flying free...