
In the heart of rock’s electric birth,
Lies a tale of creation, of passion and worth,
A Telecaster, humble, yet destined to soar,
Jimmy Page’s “Dragon,” a legend of lore.
Once cradled by Beck, the Yardbirds’ own flame,
A backup companion in the echoing game,
In ’66, with gratitude shining bright,
He gifted it forward, igniting the light.
Page received it, a canvas of white,
A simple instrument, dormant in plight,
Yet within its strings, a spirit alive,
Waiting for freedom, ready to thrive.
Inspired by Syd, with a stroke of bold fate,
Eight mirrors adorned, a shimmering slate,
Reflecting the stage, every glance a delight,
A glimmering presence in the magical night.
But the muse called to Page, an artist’s own need,
To strip down the surface, let creativity lead,
He took to the wood with a vision expansive,
Transforming the Telecaster, a journey, a dance.
With meticulous care, he unleashed his design,
A dragon entwined in black-laced red wine,
Each scale a whisper, each wing set to fly,
An embodiment of passion, a creature gone high.
Coating with lacquer, a gloss that would gleam,
A testament to artistry, a rock ’n’ roll dream,
The custom pickguard, a reflection below,
A symphony of light, where sound freely flows.
From the corners of history, this tale now unfolds,
In the echo of concerts and legends retold,
Page wielded his dragon like a magician’s own wand,
With riffs spilling magic, a silent response.
Through the haze of the decades, this guitar still sings,
Of the power it holds, of the joy that it brings,
A testament to friendship, to artistry’s call,
Jimmy Page’s Dragon—forever enthralled.
So here’s to the magic where music ignites,
To a Telecaster transformed into flights,
In the world of rock legends, it finds its own home,
A dragon that soars, forever to roam.
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