Grey and pretty, frilled and scaled,
with blood around her head,
at first I couldn’t ascertain
if she were live or dead.
“Some bastard hit her”, I did cry,
“And left her on the road to die.”
Her bloodied eyes were lightly closed
as she lay limp and curled,
still fighting for survival
in a reptile netherworld.
And then she rallied with some sips
Of water drizzled through her lips.
A few weeks passed as she grew fat
On greens and fillet steak,
On grubs and fruit and whatsoe’r
her open maw would take.
Then one surprising morning dawned
when twenty dragonlets were spawned.
I dug a hole and placed them
in a cradle made of sand,
and watched the twenty babes emerge
when nature took a hand.
And though her dragonlets were free,
my one-eyed girl could never be.
Grey and pretty, frilled and scaled
she’s buried in the sand;
the sweetest bearded dragon
that ever walked the land.
The sand that made a fleeting womb
became her everlasting tomb.