Dragon
Grandpa gathered his nephews around to hear one of his famous stories.
It happened truly, many, many years ago. The children loved his tales.
A hired thief, a poisonous dart, in the middle of the night.
He was well-trained to attack in profound silence.
He entered the cave where the dragon and his princess slept.
He shot straight at the nostril. Soon the beast lay still,
But not before it swished its large tail in acute pain.
The princess knew that trouble was afoot and ran and rang
The bell hangs in the chimney of an old ruined edifice.
The people of High Ridge realized that something was amiss,
The mayor galloped towards the cave and then up the mountain
And saw an army, with weapons well outfitted, amassed readily to attack.
The people of High Ridge were usually peaceful and certainly not
So well arrayed to defend themselves. Despair was everywhere.
The Princess wise in lore struck up a fire and threw in it her magic herbs.
Smoked filled the cavern and an old man quickly appeared.
“Who dares wake me from my slumbers, I am now old for such pranks.”
The Princess knelt and asked for pardon and addressed the mighty sorcerer
That he might help the people of High Ridge in their dire plight.
The old sorcerer stroked his white long beard and surveyed the cavern,
Examined the young dragon that lay prostrate as if dead.
He withdrew the poisoned dart from its nostril and breathed on it.
Slowly the beast woke, was given a potion for strength and
With the princess, they flew high up on the mountain and surveyed
Their enemies marched towards High Ridge. Soon they saw the beast,
Fire spewed from its mouth and the army quickly dispersed.
Bells rang, and a feast was proclaimed for now High Ridge was saved.
And what were you, grandpa, the children asked. The sorcerer?
Of course not, the old man replied. I was the mayor. And all had a laugh.
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