A creature stood about that hill,

some may say it did quite nill.

It sat, a sleepy look in its eyes,

half-asleep like its silent eyes.

It stood, looking about the place,

Maybe thinking about some great face.

A matchlike face, scaled and weary,

almost, barely something eerie.

It’s catlike eyes barely blinking,

maybe lost in some great thinking.

It had no ears; its nose was slits;

its claws refined into small bits.

Maybe it was ever ready

for some odd thing weighing heavy.

Upon that great rock sat a lizard,

looking down towards its gizard.

At whirling smoke flying up,

shooting toward an unseen cup.

Two wings, just like a bat,

its pulled-in claws just like a cat,

there sat a dragon, standing pat.

My 12 year old son wrote this. I think it is very good. He wrote it in about twenty minutes. I know he needs some synonyms for “great” but I think it’s a good poem.