Lost and Found

I bumped into a dragon

A few weeks back;

Not in itself surprising, perhaps,

But you don’t generally meet them

Walking round the lake at Meneac.

I was, in truth, totally to blame

For I was looking at the ground,

Thinking of this and that,

And not very much

When the next thing I knew

I was flat on my back

Looking up with astonishment

At what appeared, from my angle,

To be a very large Brussel sprout.

The dogs were barking,

And dancing,

As they do,

Whilst the Brussel sprout,

More helpfully,

Produced a long arm,

At the end of which was

A proffered helping-hand,

With curved, scimitar-blade swords

Where fingernails should be.

Tentatively I took it and rose to my feet,

Seeing then, as I did so,

The error in my perception.

I bowed, as one should to a dragon and,

Since they are the most formal of creatures.

She bowed her long neck in response,

Apologising  for bumping into me.

I readily accepted the apology

Whilst owning up to my own carelessness

And then I sat on a nearby bench,

Whilst we talked,

Telepathically, of course,

As I’m sure you understand,

The shape of their mouths being such,

As to make speech a great difficulty,

Though as you know,

They can put out

A jolly good roar!

Apparently my new acquaintance

Was somewhat misplaced,

Really quite literally.

She had set off from the moon

During a lunar eclipse,

As was normal,

But had lost her course

Due to having to avoid orbiting space junk.

Her original intent had been

To visit her Aunt Matilda in New York,

An aunt for whom she had a great affection.

She very much wanted to see her

Before she died,

Which would be soon.

As you probably know,

When a dragon decides to die,

And spread its wings in the next domain,

They ponder over many years

All that has occurred in their long lifetime,

Resolving all dilemmas,

Purging all uncertainties,

And then they transfer

All that they have learned

To one who is young and dear to them,

In this case, she being a spinster,

Her eldest niece, my new companion,

In an effort to pass on

Her hard-earned wisdom,

And also enter the new realm,

Cleansed of any doubts, and ready

To fully live the new life

And take the next step

In further developing the understanding

Of what the whole kit and caboodle

Of consciousness is about.

This was all very interesting,

Though probably like you,

I knew most of the

General stuff already,

But I had things to do,

People to see,

And so forth,

And the dogs, quite reasonably,

Were getting a little restless.

I could not, however, just wander off

And leave poor Henrietta –

For thus she was named –

To muddle on through,

For I now understood

That she was a youngling,

And in need of assistance.

Now, as I relate to you

What next occurred

I know you will perhaps

Think me foolish,

For dragons have received

A very bad press

As being unpredictable

And capable of real nastiness.

You must understand,

Much is exaggeration

Misunderstanding or fake news.

For instance, that whole thing

Of them liking to be attacked by knights in armour

Because although they were difficult to peel,

Just as we find prawns,

The taste of the roasted meat was better,

Since the armour held in the juices

Which tenderised the meat;

That was only true with rogue elements

Of dragonkind.  The vast majority,

As most of you are well aware,

Are either vegetarians or vegans.

Anyway, that aside –

In an age of information at our finger tips,

Not knowing the ways of dragons

Is merely the sign of an idle intellect –

There was something rather sweet,

Innocent and vulnerable about Henrietta,

So I could not leave her in the lurch.

Thus it was we set off

Back to Kerlanguet.

Our little convoy of me and the dogs

In the old Rangy,

Hazard warning lights and headlights on,

Followed by Henrietta who chose to

Ambulate behind us in a series of long,

Low hops and subsequent short glides,

Causing a little consternation

In some other road users,

Though the more cosmopolitan accepted that our

Sedate procession was reasonable enough.

After but a few minutes we arrived,

Home at Kerlanguet,

And she leapt skyward,

Her great wings coming down with a crack,

Propelling her well above the gate,

And then landed four-square in the quad.

Within but a few moments

She was surrounded by

Nine of our ten cats, of course,

For as I’m sure you recall,

There’s nothing cats adore

More than a dragon.

You will wonder, no doubt,

Why one of the ten was absent;

This is readily explained.

My most beautiful Squeaker is,

As is recognised by all who have

The extraordinary privilege of meeting her,

A true and clear princess

And as such took her time

To meet Henrietta on her own terms.

That said, Henrietta took the worshipful praise

Of the new nine adoring fans

In her stride, as they rubbed, purring,

Against her scaly sides.

She knew cats of old,

Her great Uncle Tobias having run a cattery,

Deep in the Martian tunnels,

And she knew, too,

That the princess would come to her

In her own good time.

Dragons have plenty of that.

While Jade and Matty introduced Opie,

It being a fairly rare opportunity to do so,

And discussed what sort of vegan meal

They could put together for her –

A curry, of course.  Everyone knows that! –

Ali and I considered her plight.

How could we get her to New York?

Suddenly it came to us!

Henrietta, to everybody’s joy,

Remained with us for several days and nights,

Sleeping in the large hangar,

Eating us somewhat out of house and home,

Her passion for Jade’s curries being

Apparently insatiable.

During that time we fine-tuned the plan.

Step one, I would drive to Rennes airport at

The somewhat unearthly hour of 6.00 a.m.

With Henrietta flying above me.

Step two, at 7.45 she would follow

The Air France flight to Paris,

Landing in Charles de Gaulle

At approximately 8.45.

There she was to ensure that

She did not make herself visible

To human sight,

As they were security mad

In such places;

Probably dragophobes,

As sadly so many are,

And much worse,

Gun-toting and trigger-happy,

And though the bullets

Would merely bounce of her,

She was aware that they could

Ricochet, causing damage to

The more squishy human folk.

She was also to take care that

She kept out of the way

Of all traffic, ground or sky.

I pressed upon her that

She needed to stay alert.

Perhaps I overdid it as

She laughed at me and

Asked what a lert was?

Odd sense of humour, dragons!

Step three, at 2.10 p.m.

A now rare Air France A380

Would set off to New York where,

Most conveniently, her aunt lived

In a cave directly under JFK airport.

Being somewhat deaf

The noise did not trouble her

And as she said,

She had been there

Long before the airport,

She liked her cave,

So why should she move now?

Henrietta winked and told us,

One quickly tuned out the noise,

Generally by surreptitiously,

To avoid any possible offence,

Stuffing ones ears

Full of cotton wool!

Anyway she could follow that flight

With ease, it merely flying at a cruising speed

Of Mach 0.85 with the flight being of

But 8 hours and 40 minutes duration,

Arriving in  JFK 4.50 p.m. local time,

So she would be just in time

For a late afternoon high tea,

Which pleased her greatly,

As the homemade relish her aunt

Spread thick on cucumber sandwiches

Was absolutely delightful.

I sat outside with my laptop

Henrietta peering over my shoulder,

Breathing curry breath,

And we looked at pictures of

Air France A380s so she would be sure

To follow the correct aircraft.

Since the cruising height was nearly 11,000 metres,

Alison insisted on sewing several blankets together

So Henrietta had a scarf.

Ali did not wish for her to catch a cold,

Since the air temperature would be -56.5 C.

Henrietta tried to reassure her,

Telling of visits to her Grandfather’s place

Under the North Pole

And temperatures in the upper caverns

On the dark side of the moon

Where they kept harvested crops

To keep them cool and fresh,

But Ali was obdurate;

The scarf was to be made,

And the scarf was to be worn!

As an aside, a little something I learned;

I have been told more than once

That dragon dung is great for the roses.

What I didn’t know was that

It smells like whatever they last ate,

So in Henrietta’s case, curry.

Something else I did not know

Was to dogs the smell,

Like fox poo,

Is irresistible,

And though she was

Both discrete and tidy

In her private doings,

All the dogs smelled –

Let’s be honest –

Truly delicious!

All that said, the time came

For Henrietta’s departure.

On that eve she did us two great honours.

Firstly she offered to take Opie 

A-dragonback, on a flight.

You will realise, I’m sure,

What an extraordinary offer this was.

Jade, with some understandable trepidation,

Asked if she could also go,

To ensure that Opie was secure,

Which meant Matt felt obliged

To ask to accompany them,

To keep them both safe from falling,

Whilst secretly hoping that three passengers

Would be one too many.

This, however, was not so.

Having agreed they would go au famille,

They commenced to climb her scales,

Which she somehow shifted,

The way dragons can,

To form a living stairway,

And then again shifted

Some scales on her back

To make high and secure saddles.

When all were secure,

Again there was a great crack

As Henrietta’s wings came down

And she leapt into the sky,

With Opie squealing with delight,

Jade just squealing,

And Matt grimly silent

Concentrating on keeping

His sphincter muscles closed

Whilst Ali and I waved,

And quietly counted our blessings

That this extraordinary honour

Had not been offered to us also!

The trip did not last long,

For which Opie was somewhat sad,

Whilst his parents almost

Fell to the ground

To kiss it like a Pope,

So delighted were they

To return to terra firma,

Though recognising

The great honour which

Had been shown them!

Next Henrietta put on

An out of this world light show,

Shooting flames way above the barns’ roofs,

And curling them;

Burping balls of fire and

Drawing flaming pictures in the sky.

The animals were not impressed

But we humans were enthralled

And little Opie in a

State akin to ecstasy!

Matt and Jade were sorry she’d be going,

Though both were knackered, in truth,

As dragons can consume pretty much

Their own body weight in curry,

If it is a good one,

And Jade’s always are.

Opie, too, would miss her,

As would Ali and I,

But the cats were

Absolutely beside themselves

In their profound misery

Until she promised to revisit

And see them and us again

On her way back home to Selene,

Her bustling commune on the moon.

So it was that early one cold Autumn morn

I set off for Rennes,

Pursued by a dragon

Wearing a most colourful scarf.

As you are probably aware,

A dragon’s night sight is outstanding

And Henrietta had no trouble

Following the Jagular.

When we arrived at the edge of the airport

I stopped and got out

To make my farewells.

Henrietta was effusive in her thanks,

And nearly crushed me

In a great dragon-hug.

She again promised to return

And then we both bowed low

Showing mutual respect in

What was now a friendship.

Seconds later she blinked out of sight

As she leapt into the airport

And I pottered inside

And had a quiet coffee

Before making my journey home.

A few days later we received

A postcard showing the column

Upon which the Statue of Liberty stood,

Before High Marshall Trump

Had it removed and replaced

By a large sign which

Informed any reader that

They were not welcome,

Especially if they were

Poor, or huddled masses,

Yearning to breathe free.

On the reverse of the card,

In very neat handwriting,

Henrietta informed us of her safe arrival,

And thanked us yet again for our assistance.

She rhapsodised about how glad she was

That she had worn such a fine scarf.

(Ali was most pleased with that!)

She noted, too, that her Aunt’s place

Had become generally very quiet,

Since there were nowadays so very few

Airlines flying to the Trump Domain.

Her aunt found it difficult getting used

To the long periods of silence.

Funny old world, eh!