The knight and the friendly dragon

And when the knight burst in
She found the dragon calm;
Unlike its violent kin
This one’s voice was a balm

“What ho, good knight, and why
Hast thou entered my cave
Beneath the starry sky
What treasure wouldst though have?”

The knight stood still, aback
And wondered at her fate
“This wyrm won’t fight, alack!
Is this some sort of bait?”

The dragon read her thoughts and said:

“Though, knight, my brothers breathe as fire,
And leave those like to thee all dead,
It is my heart’s but one desire
That we would sit here, befriendéd”

And so did sit the knight
Beside the dragon tall
They spoke of starry light
Together in the hall

Song of the Picker-pock

Out on a walk, a Picker-pock
Was searching high and low
For mischief he did alway seek
When out about he’d go.

This day was different; Picker-pock
Was extra vertenly;
And found he him some tricks to make
Right by the Fritten tree.

Without a thought, the vainly wot
Did snick around the tree
And find him there a gristled pear
He ‘ssumed was meant for he.

Alas, ’twas poisoned, and our Pock
Did choke upon its seeds
But spat in time for saving breaths
Among the groundly weeds.

And Picker-pock, no lesson learnt,
Went home that fruited day,
Back to his mischieved life he went,
Tho pears a’now gave away.