A/N: Hello all. This is a poem I came up with. This is chapter is the first draft. Chapter 2 is the final draft. Wording is awkward but necessary for the rhyme and metre. The Metre is a couplet of Iambic quatameter/Iambic trimeter. Yes, there is forced emphasis in this chapter which may be jarring. That has been corrected in Chapter 2. I left this chapter up for comparison purposes. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern is copyrighted by Anne McCaffrey. This is fan fiction which garners NO MONEY OR MATERIAL COMPENSATION WHATSOEVER for the author.
Small egg upon the Hatching sands,
Such as these don't break shell,
A young noble sat in the stands
By warder trained too well.
Across the sands ignoring heat
To the small egg he ran.
He kicked the egg with booted feet
And took belt knife in hand.
Two knife hilt strikes upon the shell,
The egg cracked with great sound.
From which a small white dragon fell,
The boy his lifemate found.
A fledgeling Lord of Hold was he
Though dragon he impressed,
Causing many to disagree
And fear for hold express.
The Lords of holds sought to restrict
The Ruath Lord to Weyr,
But this would cause a great conflict
Of Lordlings far and near.
For Hold Ruath must have a Lord,
Or chaos would ensue
That would not heed a harper's chord,
And throw order askew.
The dragon said his name was Ruth,
They said he'd die a turn,
His warder argued that the youth
Must to Ruath return.
For when the little dragon died,
He must have cause to strive.
For with the dragon bond denied
Riders oft fall on knives.
But the dragon did grow and thrive
Though small he'd ever be,
And even though he was half-sized
His mind was great to see.