My dragon is a loving pet
perched atop my castle, yet
he needs not a largish cave
just three-feet-tall
with wings a-wave.
His flames, they warm my hearth of old
and next to me, he heats bed cold
when hunger comes, he does a trick
catch, then kill, and braise it quick.
If criminals should come to call
they’d laugh at him, but then soon fall
his razor claws around their ears
and flee they would, with smoking rears.
My friends all love this purple guy
they travel far to meet and fly
and anytime we want to see
our most favorite country
France, we swiftly soar to thee.
Reality, I’d trade ye any day
to own this wee dragon, and stay
happily flapping in the sky
content to live and play with Fire.
– Sandra Johnson, June 26, 2022