An Affliction of Poetry: market square

I needed a dragon,
A very fine dragon
So I went to my bookshelf
To see what was there

I looked up Tolkien
And he had a dragon
A golden dragon
A dragon that didn't much like to share

I needed a dragon
but not that kind of dragon
I needed a dragon
to fly me everywhere

So I looked up Funke
And she had a dragon,
But the very best dragons
Should give you a scare

I wanted a dragon
A fine fiery dragon
Like George's dragon
Just not 12th Century fare

I found R R Martin
And he had three dragons!
But he hadn't a soul
Not anywhere there

So I picked up his book
And it had no dragons
Just some toys:
A piglet,
A kangaroo
And a teddy bear too

I opened the page
To the market square
And hidden in there
Someone was selling me
Dragons

Now whenever I sit on a stair
There's a dragon at the bottom
And a dragon at the top

And when I'm walking
down the street
Others can watch where they
put their feet

'Cause I've been down
Past the end of the town
with my dragons

A.J. Ponder

A fun poem this week, after a bit of a silence.
Because who doesn't need dragons?

News from me - I really enjoyed the science march - although I had to try not to laugh as someone waved an anti-science fiction poster over my head, because to be fair, it was anti science fiction in policy decisions. :)

Also, I'm very excited because BlindSight, a horror story in the anthology At the Edge just made the Sir Julius Vogel Award Shortlist along with some other really awesome stories. http://www.sffanz.org.nz/sjv/sjvNominations-2017.html
Many of them are on the anthology At the Edge, and one is from Asimov's something I'm not sure has happened since Peter Friend. So good luck to Sean Monaghan, and everyone making their mark in NZ Science Fiction.

Have a great week, everybody
A.J. Ponder

My Minion

Almost In the style of A.A.Milne, "Market Square"

I had a dollar

a brand new dollar.

Mum gave me a dollar

for cleaning the hall.

I took my dollar, my fine bright dollar,

straight to the book-shop, and asked them all.

"Have you got a minion, a slave, or a servant,

'cause I really am tired of cleaning the hall."

But they didn't have minions,

at least not real ones,

and story book minions

are no use at all.

So I took my dollar down to the bakers,

and showed them my dollar, and asked them all,

"Can you make me a minion, 'cause I really need a minion.

I need a minion to do my chores and all."

But the baker couldn't make minions,

at least not real ones,

and ginger-bread minions

are no use at all.

So I went to the shop where everything's a dollar

and said, "I need someone at my beck and call,"

but they wouldn't sell a minion, no matter how small,

they didn't have a minion -- not for any price at all.

I trudged home with my dollar,

and I slammed the door,

and I stomped to the kitchen

when I heard my mother call --

"Would you like a sandwich? A rainbow-sprinkle sandwich?

I've cut the crusts the way you like them most of all."

That's when I knew I had a minion, my very own minion,

I'd always had a minion, after all.

A.J. Ponder

This was a for a certain friend, who remains anonymous who was complaining there was not enough rhyming poetry. You know who you are :D