In the Mesozoic forests
the summer lingers all year.
Ferns and conifers lush
and dripping with moisture,
the effect of a greenhouse planet.
The kings of the earth roam
unfettered.
Pteosaurus, leather-winged
masters of the sky
dart above the canopy
snatching dragonflies.
Coelurus, quick-footed, shrewd,
the nightmare of mammals
cowering under the leaf litter,
while a bullish Stegosuaurs
crashes through the underbrush,
its psychedelic plates
pulsating against the green.
Out on the plains, giants assert
their presence without effort.
Diplodocus steps shake the earth,
dainty heads on preposterous necks,
tails swishing like gargantuan eels.
They scan the forest edge for enemies,
the packs of therepods
lusting after the potential
of such a gigantic feast.
(This is a poem I've thought for a while about doing, and now I think I've found the right way to do it. Hard to believe I started twenty nine days ago but it seems we've gotten through NaPoWriMo for another year. Only one more to go, so I'll see you tomorrow when we're finishing NaPoWriMo in style!)
That works!
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