The Dragon

There’s a faint odor of old money in the marine air
Petroleum, in all of its forms, forever present
One feels a sense of a moderately controlled frenzy
Like a young child’s ant farm with its busy inhabitants

You’re surrounded by towering units cooking the prize
Networks of piping and smoldering stacks, emitting steam
A fence enclosed, teeming land of coveralled citizens
All dedicated to the maintaining of steady flow

Always moving, from the smallest lorry, and the forklift
To the larger, heavily loaded, liquid tanker truck
The train, barge, and tanker ship, arriving and departing
Hauling precious product, to all points upon the planet

Yet, there is a strong sense of Mother Nature that pervades
Present, are assorted trees, shrubs, flowers, grasses, and weeds
All sorts of wildlife, deer, porcupines, rabbits, and raccoon
The birds, blue herons, seagulls, ravens, and turkey buzzards

Beneath a blue, cloud specked sky, lies this small peninsula
Surrounded by a pristine salt water of dark cold blue
All thrive within this creature, called an oil refinery
Tube feeding her, through miles of long silver pipeline, daily

All the while, she is guarded and religiously well kept
While being condemned, despised, and grossly misunderstood
By millions, whose very way of life, depends upon her
Such is the life of this flame spewing creature, the dragon

©Copyrights G. Jones 2008