Neil Higgins

The Lonely Dragon

Superfluous to requirements, the dragon downed its sorrow with a breath of fire,

as up in flames went a burning bush.

He was very shy and had often winged it away from prying eyes.

His cave was littered with mementos of exploits for another day.

Nothing spectacular, but mostly cinders of rubbish and dust particles of hay.

He was proud of his Welsh heritage and had frequently trod the way, by rugby tackling a foe or even a cruise missile.

Ok. That last bit was a tale too far.

All grey with a touch of green his wide staring eyes could remember where he'd been.

Flapping his wings and reaching cliff top heights at last.

Yet he wasn't very fast and typically pedestrians down below, had wandered duly past.

Big ears to concentrate the sound better than analogue in a wind tunnel meant that he was going deaf.

I said deaf.

No more playing the ref at dragon disputes, or sermons to teach the wicked,

as he was clearly out of sorts and merely soaking the fluff.

Yet beneath all the outpouring of sorrow, deep down he knew he was a fire breathing dragon,

and one who was extremely gentle or rough.

  • Author: Neil Higgins (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 5th, 2022 08:00
  • Comment from author about the poem: Just a silly bit of scribbling from me.
  • Category: Humor
  • Views:


  • Doggerel Dave

    You have got to get that dragon into a disciplined training regimen, then he should be able to tackle the cruise missile - a much needed service to all people.
    Easily digestible fun write, Neil.

  • Neil Higgins

    Thanks Dave.Just a silly but of nonsense from me.But I've known a few fire breathing dragons over the years.

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