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Welsh Dragons

Poetry By: PaulChafer

A poem for children who love dragons and adults, who are young at heart and still allow themselves to dream, ah, to dream eh!

Submitted:Jun 17, 2010    Reads: 6,883    Comments: 12    Likes: 7   

Old Bevan is a Welshman,

He owns a dragon farm,

They're only baby dragons',

And won't do any harm.

For food he gives them coal,

With leeks and daffodils,

They don't have any wings,

So can't fly to the hills.

So all the sheep are safe,

The ewes and little lambs,

A baby dragon's no match,

For the hardy Welsh rams.

So no one need worry,

For when the dragons' grow,

Bevan sends them underground,

They're happy down below.

There they live their lives,

Doing what dragons' do,

Away from prying eyes,

Of the likes of me and you.

If you're ever in the hills,

And hear a rumbling sound,

It might be thunder overhead,

Or Bevan's dragons' underground.


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