The Salamander Balthazar
Impressive by its name
A creature frigid cold of blood
Yet born of raging flame
It twines each tree with toxin
And sacred fire it slings
Its skin the suit of emperors
Its hair the robes of kings
So long ago, a Balthazar
This lord of every land
Once found itself within the clutch
Of one old wrinkled hand
It thrashed its limbs of litheness
Its jaw would snap and nip
But all this pomp and circumstance
For naught - he held his grip
As man and beast were tickled by
The gentle kiss of rain
The old man's grin was crooked
As the harried beast would lurch
Relief sat on his forehead
As success became his search
Then tossed within a canvas bag
Was Balthazar the chief
As wizened fingers set once more
To turn each stone and leaf
As frantically he foraged for
Another soul to glean
For what's a king of searing light
Without his fiery queen?
He pulled, he clawed, he tore aside
He flinched, he second-guessed
Determined that he wouldn't meet
With failure in his quest
As man and beast were smattered
With the cold caress of rain
Bedraggled beard and sandals blunt
The man came frantic in his hunt
Through ravaged logs and sodden ground
No Eve for Adam could be found
This blazing star without a mate,
The old man fled, disconsolate
As winds and tides and clouds would swell
Consigning all to misty hell!
And man and beast were bitten
By the wintry teeth of rain
The Salamander Balthazar
Was then, at last released
He scurried back onto the grounds
He owned from west to east
And saw the parting shoulders
Of this man of many years
The raindrops on his robefront mixed
With bitter, stinging tears
He turned once more, and murmured
One last prayer of anguished thanks
Then placed a weary sole upon
His vessel's wooden planks
With Balthazar left wondering
Who was that ragged man?
And never quite to understand
The essence of his plan
And man and beast saw forty days
And forty nights of rain...
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