
What a strange place for a dragon to rest.
Too small for itโs home, too remote for itโs nest.
A small mound of sand that is far out to sea,
Why here, why now, oh, what can it be?
The dragonโs wings crack as he flies overhead,
As he circles this mound from the sea bed.
The sand is quite fresh, so who put it there?
It wasnโt the dragon โ this isnโt his lair.
Yet the dragon does settle upon this damp sand,
Seemingly โplacedโ by some unknown hand,
But, within minutes, the dragonโs up and away,
To the next mound of sand that is ten miles away.
For the dragon to journey from point A to B
He needs some โstepping stonesโ, you see.
Heโs aware of his journey, where he wants to go,
But he takes one step at a time, and things nice and slow.


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