By George! Poor Dragon
There was a tale in times gone by
Of how a valiant knight
Destroyed a dragon and so saved
A maiden from her plight.
But all that happened long ago.
Now dragons are protected
And breeding pairs are kept in zoos
And best genes are selected.
No more can dragons breathe with flame.
They couldn’t light a candle.
If they were still as bygone days,
They’d be too hot to handle.
And flying is a big no no.
For that could cause great harm.
They simply aren’t like hawks or kites.
Land and they’d break your arm.
Their size has been a problem.
And so they’ve been bred to shrink
And now they have another name.
For dragon, now read skink.
I visited the zoo last week.
It really was a treat,
To watch the apes cavorting
And the lions ripping meat.
But on a far off dusty branch,
A lonely lizard sat.
His thoughts were on the good old days
When he could knock ‘em flat
With one sweep of his scaly tail.
One breath could fry their gizzards,
And nobody on Earth would have
The gall to call them lizards.
These days a dragon listens
Whilst some ever hopeful sounds
Them out on how to change the world,
And make a million pounds.
But, whilst the fate of maidens
Has quite drastically improved,
The dragon has lost all, and well,
You can’t help feeling moved.
©Ruth Twyman Lockyer January 2014