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.