In a developing primordial earth, at the brink of its dawn,
Under a blanket of stars, constellations newly drawn,
Legendary creatures, great and small, from it did spawn.
These primal titans roamed on hardened volcano spillage,
Some stalked and hunted, some flourished on the foliage,
While others scavenged, left to search – to perpetually forage.
The new world was their playground - their throne,
There were giants clad with armor of scale and bone,
And small ones dodging danger, hiding behind stone.
There were tender long-necked creatures that could kiss the sky,
Nearly missing the winged ones that would fly so very high,
And agile hunters reinforced with razors that would zip by.
There were gentle and mighty behemoths with crowns of horns,
Like docile ones that atop their head a trumpeted crest adorns,
Or towering ferocious beasts, a seismic ripple their presence warns.
We are left with only their hardened bones and a legacy of succession,
Of amber inclusions and footfalls carved into earth – a lasting impression,
So that from amateur to authority they can still inspire awe, even obsession.