I did not close my eyes at all that night
The turmoil in my mind was a terrible fright
I knew what had happened was just not right
Burned in my memory was that frightful sight
It started at noon when the sun was high
I was sitting under a tree as time passed by
A horse leading an old carriage with a painted eye
And on the seat was a great wizard sitting high
There was a sudden silence as the day went dark
Then a whoosh in the air and I heard a loud bark
The wizard stood straight as I heard his remark
'Begone foul beast', and from his wand came a spark
Then I saw the beast and thought I was finished
It barked again and the wizards spark was extinguished
The wizards former greatness looked very diminished
It appeared the wizards defense was fully relinquished
The great beast descended with wings spread wide
Hurrying further into the bushes I tried to hide
I was sure the the wizard would soon be fried
If the beast and carriage didn't first collide
Trying to remain silent, I watched from my hiding place
As the beast with three heads landed with easy grace
Between one beastly head and the wizards was a small space
Out came a long tongue that licked the wizards face
'Foul beast of mine, what did you follow me for
At home I must have forgotten to shut the door
I thought you were sleeping, I heard you snore
And I know getting you home will be a chore'
How could even a wizard have such a foul beast
I was sure it would make of the wizard a great feast
As he hugged the middle head his smile increased
The wizard patted the beasts cheek and led it east
Poetry cannot be written without imagination. But in this poem, you have walked great distances on imagination. Rhyming is also good. Overall, a good poem.
Darlene... First thing by you I have read And I have this feeling of dread You are so young (21) and I am so old (85) You'll be weaving tales after I'm cold. Don't wanna miss'em, and, so, somehow, .......... tell 'em all now! ! Your imagination's stretch is anything but normal, young lady. I shall try to hang on long enough to become a rab id fan. I do not state things lightly (ordinarily) . I believe you have an extraordinary talent for writing. I will be after you to write limericks (if you have not already done so) . I find my abilities are best used in this form (although I am also an unpublished caricaturist and cartoonist) . I am new to this site but feel I have finally found a home. I shall shush for now. a 10 rating, of course. ta Wes (Old Dad)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Loved the comment of the 'Old Dad', @Wes Vogler. I hope, he is still alive and enjoying poetry of this site.