The Ballad of Clyde the Dragon
There used to be a dragon, living upon a hill,
Breathing smoke and fire out, as dragons often will.
The villagers around this hill had named their dragon Clyde,
And whenever knights in armor came the beast would duck and hide.
Now one fine day a princess fair, out traveling on her own
Came bouncing down the dragon path while selling cheap cologne.
She came upon a farmer's wife and decided to apprise her
Of the wonders of her product and its useful atomizer.
She sprayed a mist of cheap cologne to demonstrate its scent,
Which villagers swore smelled like fumes a sickly skunk might vent.
But most disturbed of all, of course, was timid Clyde the great,
Who thought for sure from nosing this that he had found his mate.
On down the dragon path he came, his scales slicked down and greased,
Blowing blue and yellow smoke—he was a handsome beast!
(In all of fairyland 'tis said, so often it is written,
There is no nobler sight to see than a dragon that's love smitten.)
He reached this little farm-house, with his tail he thumped the ground.
He lifted up his lizard head and slowly sniffed around.
Then looking down Clyde focused on the princess with her jar
Who stood there rather mystified, as first dates usually are.
(The villagers had left by then, all knowing Clyde's renown
For stumbling over rabbit holes and loudly falling down,
And oft with blinded innocence he's smother one too near,
So to some shelter they would skulk when seeing Clyde appear.)
Clyde bellowed out a mating call that knocked down several trees,
And incidentally shook the worried princess to her knees.
"Be gone," she cried, in angry voice, "go crawl back to your cave."
"No dragoness," thought lovesick Clyde, "would ever so behave.
"She looks so pale, she looks so small, she isn't even green,
Yet surely she's a dragoness—my sense of smell is keen."
To show her his affection Clyde licked her with his tongue,
Which rather singed her gown a bit, so in charred threads it hung.
Just then a handsome knight appeared and sizing up the view
Came prancing down the dragon path all armed from head to shoe.
"What ho!" he cried in dreadful voice (and vocabulary thin),
"This princess, if I read it right, could use some rescuin'."
With spear and tarnished blade he came, never breaking stride,
Down the dusty path he rode, charging lovesick Clyde.
First Clyde ducked, then he whined, then he blew some smoke,
The knight's old lance was second-hand, and on a scale it broke.
But dauntless did the gallant knight then come at Clyde with sword.
Which vexed and troubled dodging Clyde (such violence he abhorred).
Then with a mighty blow, and with an anguished sound,
The knight struck once again, and Clyde fell to the ground.
The knight turned to the princess fair and took her in his arms.
He lifted up his visor to show her all his charms.
"Now then you must marry me, for having saved your life.
I'll take you to my castle where you shall be my wife.
You'll bake my bread, clean my clothes, work from dawn 'til night,
While I drink ale in bawdy inns and spoil for a fight.
You'll scrub the stones and woodwork and polish all the chairs,
You'll cook and gather groceries while I go visit fairs.
I'll go off to clubs at night to dance to drums and pipers
While you stay home to peel the spuds and change our babies' diapers.
You'll buff and clean my armor, from head to toe, of course,
And when these other chores are done you'll brush and feed my horse.
You'll clean the jakes and swill the pigs and keep the manor neat,
And thus you shall repay me for this most daring feat."
The princess was not stupid, and what this knight portrayed
Was not the sort of wedded life for which she often prayed,
And when he tried to sweep her up, or so the story goes,
She clenched her hand into a fist and punched him in the nose.
The knight, though dimly-witted, worked out how matters lay,
He staggered to his waiting steed then quickly rode away.
The princess watched him disappear and soon pass out of sight,
Happy that she had the wit to spurn this brainless knight.
Then turning to the wounded beast she tended to his hurt
By dusting off his forehead with a soft (and still charred) skirt.
Clyde was quite delighted; his eyes were soon untipped;
He wasn't really wounded, for he had only tripped.
He lifted willing princess upon his scaly back
And off they went together on up the dusty track.
With prideful steps he swept her to his humble cave-like home
And treated her with dragon love as heartfelt as a poem.
They both lived rather happily, as such mixed-couplings go,
And sprouted many children and lived to watch them grow.
The boys were all fine wyverns, though lacking social graces,
They often tangled up their feet and fell down on their faces.
The girls were all fair princesses with one flaw to bemoan—
They spoke in fiery clouds of smoke that smelled like cheap cologne.
