Denis Martindale

Saint George - Poem by Denis Martindale

The dragon, taller than a tree,
Looked down on George's head,
While he looked up uncertainly
And fighting first his dread...

He stood his ground, not one step back,
As faith within him grew,
For while he knew that things looked black,
He had to see this through...

The dragon stood his ground as well,
Though George held high his sword...
The dragon, thought to come from Hell,
Perhaps with fire stored...

The dragon had no flames and yet
He knew George planned his death,
Yet thought he had no need to fret,
If George no more had breath...

The dragon swished his giant tail,
But George was wise to that
And proved himself an agile male
Instead of falling flat...

The tail passed by, his sword went in,
The dragon roared in pain
And when George saw his chance to win,
He pierced the tail again...

If dragons cursed and dragons swore,
That must have happened next,
As blood then spurted out for sure,
With that big dragon vexed...

He dragged his dragon's tail away
As fast as he then could
And then decided, come what may,
To kill small George real good...

But George was quick to cut things short,
He climbed the dragon's tail
And valiantly he fought and fought
The dragon tooth and nail...

Across the back, just like a hill,
He clambered to the hilt,
Upto the neck where he stayed still,
In hopes the beast was killed...

The dragon twisted left and right,
But George drew back his sword
And then he thrust with all his might,
So death would be assured...

The dragon gulped with bloodied mouth,
A glaze then filled his eyes,
Then suddenly his frame fell South,
With him cut down to size...

The dragon laid upon the ground,
While George climbed down nearby,
The dragon made a gurgling sound,
As if to ask him why...

The dragon hadn't sought this duel,
Yet George had blocked his path,
The dragon thought he was a fool
Who'd signed his epitaph...

The dragon's teeth were then removed
When he no longer breathed
And while folks cheered with courage proved,
George stood there quite relieved...

The villagers were quite impressed,
That brave George didn't faint...
The Church declared his noble quest
As worthy of a saint...

A patron saint, of course, is rare,
Yet England still recalls
His courage thought beyond compare
That it's still taught in schools...

Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 3, 2012

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