Welcome, old Southern fence lizard,
you mottled, rusty dinosaur
hiding beneath dark begonia leaves
or among jewel-red salvia blooms
that rise like fiery spikes
on leafy, emerald stems.
 
I built that flower bed myself
under a towering white oak,
found rocks in the woods
and laid them around the tree,
each one touching the other
in a circle like a magical fairy ring
filled with rich woods dirt
that smells of ancient earth.
 
Now you claim it as your own
and rule over it as your domain.
Dappled gray bark is your tower.
Every flower is your standard.
A toadstool is your throne.
 
Flicking your stealthy tongue
and darting with precision,
you feast on insect intruders
who dare to enter your realm.
 
Welcome, noble lizard king.
Guard your kingdom well.


© by Carroll S. Taylor.
Used here with the author’s permission.