The simple things we have are the things of truest beauty.

November 19, 2013

The Tale of The Dragon Tail



In the days of kings and knights
when there were foes and beasts to fight,
our fathers did things differently
and thought in other ways than we.

Around the time of cold Yuletide,
the monarch bored of food and sighed
for tasty, roasted dragon tail,
and love of other food would fail.

The mighty hunters all around
would hunt until a tail was found:
a risky job for skill and grit
requiring all their strength and wit.

Early in the snowy morn,
the leading hunter blew his horn
and all the hunters started out
to hunt in all the woods about.

A hefty warrior on a horse
set out upon a northern course.
He found a beast that was a bear
and fought him with a courage rare.

The bear's sharp claws slashed trees to earth.
The warrior's hand went to his girth;
he drew a shining, two-edged knife
and fought, but sadly lost his life.

One nimble hunter climbed a tree
to see where might a dragon be.
He got a nasty squirrel peck
and fell and landed on his neck.

All hunters went from near to far,
under the sun, under the stars.
They searched and hunted avidly
but nothing dragon did they see.

One young, annoying kitchen lad
wanted to find a dragon bad.
He snuck out of the castle gate
and ran into the worst of fate:


He barely went a hundred yards
when rising from the snowy sward
a stream of poison fire flew
and cooked the laddie through and through.

A brave and charming nobleman
was traveling around his land.
He saw the dragon's smacking lips,
and wicked eyes and tail whip.

He saw the dragon's belly bulge
from what he'd viciously indulged.
He saw the curved and scaly feet,
the pointed fangs he used to eat.

He reached behind him for his spear;
he saw the dragon drawing near.
The dragon pounced upon his arm,
with every aim to cause him harm.

The nobleman fell to the ground.
The dragon swung him all around.
The nobleman was filled with fear,
he quickly snatched his shiny spear.

He thrust it at the dragon's head
but missed and knocked its back instead.
The dragon grabbed him by his feet,
preparing breaths of fiery heat.

Hanging helpless upside-side-down,
the nobleman twisted around
and aimed his knife toward the part
that had no scales. It was the heart.

The dragon fell upon its face.
Snow melted in the quiet place.
A winter's gray and stormy sky
beheld the place the dragon died.

The kingdom's stony castle walls
were hung with wreaths, and in the halls
a table set with such a feast-
with every food from great to least.

And in the center was the tail,
cooked with spicy apple ale,
almost eighty inches long
and smelling yummy, sweet and strong.
The king greeted the nobleman.
They sat before the steaming pan
and ate a lot of dragon meat
(which, by-the-way, is quite a treat.)


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