. . .

“Arrive did I at Silene hushed,

Not a sniffle caught the ear.

My steed and I, at Silene crushed

By a monster fraught with fear,

Rode the twilight tainted streets,

Our quest to question and quiz,

‘Why do sheep refrain their bleats?

How didst’ life come to this?’

An innkeeper did me apprise,

With the most heart-wrenching tale.

Of a dreaded dragon who symbolized,

Death itself and cause to wail.

The city was emptied of its denizen,

To feed the beast from hell.

Men and women – but cackling chicken,

Lots chose the next who fell.

I shall slay that glutton!

Who feasts on Silene’s sons,

Who lunches on her daughters,

Who dines for mere mirth and fun.

George’s sword is unsheathed,

His blade prepped for battle,

Silene’s fair folk pay heed,

Anon shall the glutton rattle!”

. . .

Granville D. Austin