Back from the con in time to type up today’s poem, inspired by this prompt and especially for all you D&Ders.
Bland but Nourishing
Before the Eye of Imozen,
Before the Rainbow Cavern,
Before the gold of Fetter’s Hold,
We met up in a tavern.
And after we’ve been dragon breathed,
Stabbed, and disintegrated,
We’ll dream, as we begin to heal,
About our last aboveground meal—
Cooked, and not created.