The Sick Young Dragon by Derek Stuart

‘What can I do?’ young dragon cried.

‘Although I’ve simply tried and tried,

It doesn’t matter how hard I blow,

I can not get my fire to go!’

‘Open your mouth!’ his mother said.

‘It’s no wonder!’ Your throat’s not red.

Your scales are cold. You must be ill.

I think you must have caught a chill.’

The doctor came. He looked and said,

‘You’ll need a day or two in bed.

Your temperature’s down. No doubt,

That’s the reason your fire’s gone out.

Just drink this petrol. Chew these nails.

They’ll help you to warm up your scales.

Just take it easy. Watch TV

You’ll soon be right as rain, you’ll see.’

Young dragon did as he was told

And soon his scales stopped feeling cold.

Hee sneezed some sparks. His face glowed bright.

He coughed and set the sheets alight.

‘Oh dear!’ he cried. ‘I’ve burnt the bed!’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ his mother said.

‘Those sheets were old. Go out and play.

Just watch where you breathe fire today!’

by Derek Stuart

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mrhearne

Poetry, theatre, literature, films, reviews and various other matters.

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