Ernest the Great..

Deep in the woods, in a big old cave,
Lived a dragon, called Ernest the Great,
The clumsiest and friendliest dragon of all,
He caused chaos from early ’till late.

With a roar from his mouth and a swoosh from his tail,
From his nostrils; a great big puff.
Even a sneeze made a ball of fire,
He was made of such powerful stuff.

One sunny morning, he woke as normal,
Had his breakfast and brushed his teeth.
“Something’s not right,” said Ernest to himself,
As he moved about, on his feet.

No scorches, no burns, not even a singe,
He roared, but nothing came out,
Then he realised, that since he woke up,
No fire had come out of his mouth.

“Aaaaaaah,” groaned Ernest, as he took a look,
In front of the mirror, he stuck out his tongue.
‘My throat looks fine and I don’t feel ill.
But where has my fire all gone?’

The missing fire, a mystery to him,
He was like a hen that couldn’t lay eggs.
Days passed by and still no sign,
Of the dragon’s fiery breath.

‘Enough is enough,’ he packed his bag.
There was a journey he must make,
At the end of the forest, lived a well known wizard,
In a castle, by the edge of the lake.

The wizard was known to fix many things,
With magic, he cast great spells.
So Ernest set off to the old stone castle,
Where the King of magic, did dwell.

He flew in a jiffy, to the wizard’s castle.
He knocked on the great big door.
THUMP…THUMP……THUMP… THUMP…THUMP,
There were echoes, on the royal floor.

The door opened wide, with a big old C R E A K,
And a wizard peeped out, from behind.
‘Please,’ said Ernest. ‘I need your help.
My Fire breath, I must find.’

“Well,” smiled the wizard, “You’d better come in.
Don’t be standing there, in the cold.’
He looked at the dragon, shivering and wet,
And a story began to unfold.

‘Ok,’ he said, as they sat by the fire.
Ernest’s wings were no longer wet.
‘To make this potion, to retrieve your fire,
There are things from the forest you must get.’

An acorn first, then a hair from a deer,
And a berry, from the piddle-berry tree.
These are the things, you must gather tonight,
And bring back, from the forest to me.

Before the sun rises tomorrow morning,
I’ll make a potion to restore your fire.
Ernest waved goodbye to the friendly wizard,
Remembering the list of ingredients to acquire.

He trudged through the woods,
Crushing rustling leaves, underneath his big old feet.
Looking around from the sky to the ground,
Not knowing who he was about to meet.

‘Excuse me’ said a voice, ‘where are you headed?
In such a hurry, what’s the rush?’
Ernest looked back and there before him,
Was a squirrel peeping out from the bush.

I’m off on a mission, to find three things,
The wizard will make a potion for me.
I need a single acorn, and a hair from a deer,
And a berry from the piddle-berry tree.

‘Well if u give me a lift, to the far side of the forest.
I’ll climb on and hold your wings.
Then give you this acorn, as a thanks, for your kindness,
That’s ONE on your list of things.’

‘Sure, climb on board,’ smiled Ernest, to the squirrel,
‘I’ll get you there in a jiffy, you’ll see.’
Together they laughed as Ernest took off,
And almost crashed into a tree.

When they reached the far side of the darkening forest,
Cyril the squirrel giggled with delight.
He placed the acorn into Ernest’s hand,
And danced off into the night.

Ernest stood still and looked around.
‘Now where to find a deer?’
Just that minute, he listened carefully,
And couldn’t believe his ears.

“H…E….L….P” he heard, over and over.
‘It’s coming from over there,’
Thought Ernest to himself feeling rather nervous,
What if it’s a grizzly bear?

He tiptoed gently, moving closer,
Afraid of what he’d find.
Then tripped over a stick and stood on his tail,
And fell down on his big behind.

There in front of him was a frazzled Deer,
With her bum stuck in a bush,
‘Help me,’ she cried, with tears down her face.
I needed the toilet in such a rush.

Ernest looked down at the helpless creature.
Now wasn’t the time to giggle,
So with a twist and a turn and a helping hand,
The Deer was freed with a wiggle.

“Thank you,’ Mr. Dragon, ‘How can I ever repay you?’
‘Ah but you have helped me too,’
There on the thorns was the deer hair he needed,
From the list he had now found TWO.

‘Where can I find the Piddle-berry tree?’
‘Follow that path, it’s over there,’
Off he trudged over the crunchy leaves,
With darkness falling everywhere.

So he closed his eyes and remembered his fire
And BELIEVED he could light up the night.
Just then, he let out a humongous sneeze,
What happened next gave him a delightful fright.

There it was, his fiery breath,
Now brightening up the sky,
And in front of him, stood by the piddle-berry tree,
Was the wizard to explain, just why.

‘Sometimes it’s not about lotions and potions, Ernest,
Or even magic spells.
It’s about knowing in our heart that we can do it,
And BELIEVING, in ourselves.’

The End.

Copyright written by Denise Kenny

This is a story I wrote for my children. It’s long but I would love to see it published in a 2 part, fun picture book :-)