There’s a dragon that lives in our basement.

He sleeps right under the stairs.

I know he’s there ‘cos I’ve seen him

and smelt his breath on the air.

At night, when it’s quiet, I hear him.

For he breaths with a rumbling noise.

But I’m not afraid of our dragon

for I’m told he likes little boys.

 

Not to eat, no, just to be friendly

but in case he forgets now and then.

I always carry a cookie

in my pocket when visiting him.

He has teeth that gleam in the darkness.

His tail makes a slithering sound.

His claws are extremely pointed.

His eyes are enormously round.

 

But I’m glad that we have a dragon

that lives down under our stairs.

‘Cos he’ll frighten away any baddies

that could come and give us a scare.

 

 

David Garlick, Victoria, 1988