
What a strange place for a dragon to rest.
Too small for itβs home, too remote for itβs nest.
A small mound of sand that is far out to sea,
Why here, why now, oh, what can it be?
The dragonβs 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 wasnβt the dragon β this isnβt his lair.
Yet the dragon does settle upon this damp sand,
Seemingly βplacedβ by some unknown hand,
But, within minutes, the dragonβs 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 βstepping stonesβ, you see.
Heβs 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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