How The Woodstock Dragon Saved Christmas

A little bit of Christmas fun from two years ago. There might be a sequel this year, you never know…


Up on the mountain near Woodstock’s dark cave

A few jumps to the left if you’re young and you’re brave

Is a lesser known place, a less obvious space

Where the odd buck or goat disappears without trace


Inside is a creature who’d give you a fright

His body is red and his eyes black as night

His snout shoots out smoke…

…and his roar is no joke

He’s Dai the Red Dragon (well known to Welsh folk)

He’s lived in the mountain since seventy four

(When JPR, Gareth and Phil came on tour)

When he yawns, the southeaster howls down to the sea

On breath with the faint whiff of kudu-bone tea


But none of this matters much more than a jot

His stories are many, there are such a lot

The tale for the telling at this time of year

Is all about Christmas. And bogeys. And beer.


Picture the scene if you will or you dare

A boy filled with anger on his naughty chair

Grumpily kicking and picking his nose

And wiping the contents right into his clothes.


The day had begun with much promise and cheer

Helping his dad fill some bottles with beer

A three year old brewing is rare I’ll admit

But his duties do not include tasting one bit


There’s washing and drying and measuring sugar

And in the odd bottle a bonus stray booger

There’s filling and capping and labelling too

But listen to Dad or the helping time’s through.


So after a time of ignore and repeat

Young Rhys found his way to the naughty-boy seat

The drumming of legs and a thought oh so clear

Won’t someone please come and drink all my dad’s beer?


The wish of a child swept along on the breeze

Swished its way up to Dai who was eating some cheese

Enlisting the help of a cow he’d befriended

A cheddary smoky concoction he’d blended


The cheese was quite salty and Dai had a thirst

The whisper of beer was welcome, but first

He tidied his cave as good dragons are taught

Then flew off to set about gallon and quart


He hid in the garden and waited for night

Storytime ended and off went the light

Into the man-cave that housed all the booze

Went Dai the Red Dragon, some bottles to choose


In less than ten minutes Dad’s Special Red Ale

Had settled quite nicely in Dai’s long red tail

The lager and stout filled him up to the snout

And groaning he waddled and weaved his way out


By the time he got back to his dragonly den

Poor Dai was a mess. He was bloated, and then

A rumble that started right down in his scales

Turned into a belch that was bigger than Wales


The mountaintop shook as the burp flew up high

Way up to the stars in the twinkling sky

And as it grew colder the beery air

Turned into a cloud that was fleecy and fair


It grew and got darker and covered the lands

As Dai held his head in his red dragon hands

The temperature dropped and Dai whispered “Oh no…”

As the high heat of summer converted to snow


That’s really what happened, no hint of a joke

As Rhys rubbed his eyes and he slowly awoke

He walked to his window and there on the ground

Six inches of snow and no sun to be found


Snowballs and turkey and laughter and cuddles

A snowman today will be Boxing Day puddles

Remarkably Dad filled with Christmassy cheer

Forgot to ask anyone “Where is my beer?”


For a proper white Christmas instead of the heat

Was a sight to behold and a very rare treat

And so the whole family resolved to have fun

And wish Merry Christmas to you everyone


4 thoughts on “How The Woodstock Dragon Saved Christmas

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