A very dear friend of mine keeps dragons.
Not, as you’d think, scary fire breathers,
and her castle is just a flat
although still up in the clouds
in attic rooms in a reliquary house.
Her and her dragon, see across the city.
They are lizards, and friends,
Scared of cats and sudden noise
and especially vicious malingerers,
Seagulls. Yet people still scream
As if it’s something strange
to keep a little Wyvern
who hasn’t even wings to spread.
Now, when we think, as people,
small predators are now friends,
little feline, wolf bred to bind,
still kill and yet are loved,
We will not touch a basilisk
who will only devour bugs.
So, when my cat brings me a present
of some poor frightened-dead vole,
When your dog gets a bit scared
and wrecks your living room,
I think we should be jealous
Of my friend and her lizard at home.