They never told about the cold, cold morn,
the painful blue and cheery winter sky;
the friendly warm embrace of toothy yawn,
the reeking of its breath; its marble eye;
the dragon gets a mention in her tale
but just that Margaret entered its insides:
another hero trapped inside the scales,
but nothing of the dragon's life, besides.
They say the beast was Satan in a glamour,
but that's all nonsense, since the virgin matron
who made her crucifix a makeshift hammer
is ever since considered childbirth's patron;
because it gave her birth, and spared her bones,
she'd visit every week for tea and scones.