Dinosaur Victoria
That came through a tunnel in time.
She was thrashing around under the floor.
I didn’t know, really, what was in store.
Was she a burglar committing a crime?
I knew that a burglar wouldn’t make such a noise,
So I called to her, but she wouldn’t talk.
I had tables and shelves there that could be destroyed.
It was time that my wits must be deployed.
I yelled, “Stop it!” and heard her squawk.
I opened the door to look downstairs.
She was sad, and her skin had turned blue.
It had been a long time since she’d smelt the air,
And she had no family with whom she could share
What dinosaurs like to do.
I opened up both of the cellar doors,
And she was grateful to wriggle outside,
Even though it was about to storm,
She rolled over the sidewalk, and danced on the lawn
In movements dignified.
I think she used to live in a swamp
Because her face and her feet were so mucky.
As the rain poured down and she continued to romp,
Her scales started shining like glowing lamps,
And I could tell she was feeling ducky.
For a year or more, she stayed in our yard,
And became the best of my friends.
Though we held each other in high regard,
She yearned for the future, though it might be hard.
I don’t know how her story would end.
She’s an adventurer from back in the past,
All alone, but full of good will,
Who showed that more than the fossils can last;
Who offered a hope which I did not ask
That I can find her tunnel still!
No comments:
Post a Comment