How to ride a dragon

How to ride a dragon?

Well… See that flagon?

Empty it now with twenty in tow,

All the way till you feel your brave grow.

This special house ale,

Advertised as male,

Makes you fire-proof, can land on a roof,

If you fall down from your dragon goof,

Which might be likely,

Like feeling slightly spikely,

If you taunt the beast with your brain full of yeast

You’ll get ran through, forcefully deceased.

First thing, though,

Before you go, you know,

Sign your things, paintings of kings,

Along with nails and all the bed springs.

Sign them to me,

A caretaker you see,

If you don’t come back to your dear mum,

Forgetting your stuff would just be dumb.

On the dotted line,

Make them all mine,

Then run outside, look at its green hide,

Trust in the drink. Would I have lied?


Flesh eating moose

Nine hundred pounds of hairy and smelly,

Muscles everywhere except on its swollen belly.

The head held high and two feet higher,

Horns of steel sharp like razor wire.

The part that’s abnormal is in its hard head,

A normal moose doesn’t want you dead.

Flesh eating moose is a northern quirk.

For a thing so big, it knows how to lurk.

When you’re picking berries blue or cloudy,

It’s behind the bushes just thinking “Howdy,

You look tasty with your tender meat,

The last thing I’ll eat are your tiny feet.”

Seventeen thousand people in a year,

Succumb, in the forests, to the ancient fear.

It’s no wonder it’s a god in the north.

Just his image brings our tears forth.

I wanted to be scary

This one just wants to be scary.


I always wanted to be scary, not just nice.

I wanted my sight to fill people with ice.

When I tried to hide and suddenly go “BOO!”

It didn’t really work through and through.


I had to keep quiet, but I couldn’t.

I just giggled and laughed, and I shouldn’t.

I had to stay still, but I didn’t.

I shook with laughter, a pretty clear hint.


I wanted to have horns that scare and frighten.

The sight of which would make your hair whiten.

I don’t have horns, not even stumps.

My round head won’t give anyone goose bumps.


I wanted to have long, shaggy, black fur

That would make your speech start to slur.

My fur is fluffy and the brightest pink.

Smooth and silky, not a single wrink.


I wanted to roar like a lion

So loudly that you’d hear it in Orion.

My voice more of a song and less of a howl.

Less like lightning and more like a towel.


I wanted eyes that glow red and sharp.

When you saw them, you’d go play the harp.

My eyes are deep brown with a glimmer.

In the dark they don’t get any dimmer.


I wanted my claws to be sharp and long

So sharp the light would bend all wrong.

I don’t have claws, my paws are soft.

They don’t do much more than waft.


I wanted to be big and tower over all.

In my hands, a giant would be a doll.

My back is short and my legs as well.

Not at all like those of a gazelle.


I wanted everyone to fear my punches and kicks.

They would break bone and shatter stone bricks.

Instead of fearsome punches and kicks

I can only give lovely kisses and licks.


I wanted and I wanted and it’s not so.

I can’t change it, I know, I know.

I wanted to be scary but I just can’t.

I’ll just be boring, like a wax plant.

I wanted to frighten, but I know I won’t.

I’ll share a hug even if you don’t.

I can’t change, so why even bother

At least I’ll be fit to be a good father.