A tree laid
broken and splintered,
as an idol paid
so little so
idle aid
saw little
Adelaide
alone in the dark.
Carving,
as he made
bucket
and a spade
for sand castles,
then he wades
through waves
he was afraid
of the dark surf
had he faded
in black wash
a country unmade
castle swallowed.
No knights
to save little
Adelaide.
A boy to raid
in cotton,
a time to invade
bravely
weaponry homemade:
bucket
and a spade.
He marched,
a downgrade
fairy tale,
fled his trade
miles to his
solo crusade
so far from
selling lemonade.
In shadow
nightshade
black, cold
unafraid
purple eyes
he dare evade
firey nostrils
forbade
farther motion.
Dragon
hell fire
burning.
Perhaps betrayed
or a charade
as the cascade
of flame
displaced about him.
He reached out
plucked light
from the beast
before him.
The young man's
one-man parade
dragged
a bleeding jade
star dancing
expelling shade
for
lime laid
upon the darkness.
The flame flickered
as he made
his way to
Adelaide;
for a moment
they saw each other.
The flame was
washed away
by the black,
so there stood
little Adelaide
in the dark
not alone.
