Phoebe the Fierce

Cat Faber

Phoebe the Fierce

Copyright ©2021 Cat Faber
All Rights Reserved - Used by Permission

Listen my friends as the tale does unfold
And tell generations to come
How Phoebe the fierce is a dragon so bold
Who is roughly as big as your thumb
She trills little ditties when happy, or bored
Any bard would be tickled to join
Each evening at dusk she will polish her hoard
Which consists of a small silver coin

The talk of the market, the toast of the feast
From the border right up to the throne.
Is the story of Phoebe the fiercest and least
And the coin that was never alone.

I purchased a bun in the village of Whit
In a neat little shop, by the grange
The price was quite fair but I have to admit
I was taken aback by the change
Excuse me, I said; that's a lizard, but no,
She mantles her wings and she scolds.
The baker said "that's only Phoebe; she'll go
Along with that shilling she holds"

I thought that for bargaining I had a knack,
But I hadn't been ready for this.
I tugged at the coin, but the dragon tugged back
With a tiny, adorable hiss.
The baker was looking me right in the eye
"Take it or leave it," he said.
So she ran up the arm I held out with a sigh
And settled down next to my head.

My belt pouch acquired a slit in the seam
Where Pheebs and her shilling were laired
I was startled one day by a desperate scream
And I turned around quick and I stared
A pickpocket rolling about on the sand
Was a sight I'll forever recall,
Clamped like a bear trap to one flailing hand
Was one furious Dragon, size small.

She sits on my shoulder and warbles by day
And sleeps on my pennies at night
She's easy to feed and she's hard to dismay,
For all that her size may be slight.
For Phoebe is fearless, for all she is strange
A friend that's not easily matched
So don't turn it down if you find, in your change
A coin with a dragon attached!