Yesterday’s prompt was to write a poem about a mythical creature or person doing something unusual or out of character.
Here Be Dragons! Uccello got it wrong; that fair maiden and I were only swapping tips on how to dry the weekly wash on a wet day. (those flowing robes take some doing). It’s not my fault that St George passed by on his daily walk and got hold of the wrong end of the lance. Honestly, he’s never been the same since he got himself elected local Neighbourhood Watch rep; It’s gone to his head. Who does he think I am? Smaug? I mean - I give away my treasure; Our monthly swap-shops are legendary round here, ever since Thorin Oakenshield and I joined forces with Benedict Cumberbatch. We have some laughs, I can tell you! So I do have my soft spot, as you can see. Just don’t poke it with your sword. Actually, Health and Safety prohibit the use of sharp implements of any kind within the vicinity of the mountain; which makes our summer barbecues a teensy bit awkward. Never mind, it’ll all come out in the wash, and those new-fangled veggie burgers taste remarkably good au naturel, saignant. Come join us anytime, for beer, biccies, friendly conversation; …and a blast of hot air.