“Jetster”

A minstrel of sorts
And what resides in his thoughts
Is love and a tenderness, He
Hunts in the moonlight
In the wilds on his own
Resigned to his space
Out there alone
He knows what he needs
And his need we now share
He sought a true witch
Someone aware
Beguiled by the dragon
That often came by
That raven haired lass
With the stars in her eye

There were many around
Wanting to stroke
Giving him food
Berkhamsted folk
But only one soul
Who he picked up on there
The lass with the heart of real gold
He could share
Who was she?
She was
To The magpie of felines
Sporting a malleable reason to be
Walking to where
This lady fair
Sporting her dragon
He wanted to share

He felt undefended
a shelterless soul
Picked up her magick
Her impregnable role
Her evident beauty
Her bulletproof being
She could be his goddess
With her yes all seeing
He could hunt in the bushes
Bring wousers galore
Dragons eat wousers
He could catch more
He just felt so special
In her company
Wherever she came from
He wanted to be

And now his nirvana
Is where he be
She is the goodness
His sublimity
He feels dynamic
All knowing and wise
And out there at night
He is one of the guys
Who leads, he goes further
Than most dogs would go
Significant trails
Into copses that show
Magical pathways
He gleans from her much
In his shared sovereignty
So much in touch

Tactility
a reason to be
At a whiskers length
To her fragility
With his wealth of fur
He can comfort her
Its where he likes to be
Where his magic is key
Jetster has humour
A lover of light
He walks in the darkness
His incredible sight
He is where he was meant to be
And he is sure
With his raven haired goddess
That he does adore.