Other Poems by:

Thomas Vaughan

Sarah's Song

When Sarah laughs, 
the world is filled with music
When Sarah cries,
 the whole world sheds a tear
And every bright and 
breezy summer morning
Is warmer still
 to know that Sarah's near
For Sarah holds an 
essence of enchantment
Her heart is free from
 sophistry and guile
Her effervescent charm 
is her entrapment
The world stands breathless,
 just for Sarah's smile.

An Anthem to Poetry

Feed me with words to fill me 
With a rollicking refrain
Assuage my basic appetite
Exhilarate my brain
Set forth the feast embellished
In a simple harmony
And I will find repletion
Nourished well by poetry

Henry and the Dragon

   The howling winds appeared to mock
the maiden tied up to a rock.
Brought by a silent, horse drawn wagon
to serve as supper for a dragon,
and from her cruel and stony bed
these are the plaintive words she said
"Will no one save me from this fate
too dreadful far to contemplate.
My Hero! Please don't hesitate
or else, I fear, you'll be too late."

Thence came a pure and gentle knight;
He rode up from the Isle of Wight.
A handsome and upstanding fellow
with posture bold and manner mellow.
He'd brought his lance and sharpened blade
to try to save the hapless maid.
He said in tones so loud and clear,
"My Lady, you need have no fear,
so shed not one more single tear.
Have courage damsel, Henry's here."

The dragon, hearing from his cave
those ringing words, so fierce and brave;
Flew very quickly to the spot
with flaming coat and breath so hot;
Angry to hear this idle boast,
ready to turn the knight to toast.
The damsel screamed in mortal fright
"Will no one save me from this plight?
Where is my parfait, gentle knight
to neutralise this dragon's bite?

Then Henry drew his shining sword
with which he'd faced the Golden Horde.
He'd slain a troll, and killed a wizard;
he wasn't frightened by a lizard.
He stood before the frightened girl
and gave his sword a skilful  twirl.
He cried, "Come dragon, do your best !
Prepare to face your final test;
This sword will sleep within your breast,
before the sun sinks in the west."

The dragon glared a baleful glare,
then rose to hover in the air;
The breath he breathed was fiery hot,
and suddenly, the Knight was not.
Where he had stood, so bold, so brash,
there rose a pile of smouldering ash.
The dragon spread his wings, and then
he took the maiden to his den.
She vanished from the sight of men,
and nevermore was seen again.

The moral of this story's clear;
The thing that hurts us most is FEAR !
For though it may seem quite absurd
If she had never said a word,
she might have stayed there through the night;
Unheard, unnoticed, out of sight,
Then with the coming of the day
she might have found a cunning way
the rope to cut or knots to fray.
She might have even got away.


I have this little problem,
It keeps me up all night.
I'd like to pen a poem
But can't think what to write!

I gaze up at the ceiling
From my four poster bed
And send small signals feeling
Around my empty head.

Each time that I'm inspired
When sparks ignite my brain
I find that I'm too tired 
And fall asleep again.

It needn't be inventive
Set down in secret code
I just need some incentive
An ordinary ode.

It's not a huge ambition
To write a tiny verse
But this is like perdition
What's more, it's getting worse.

My pen lies still, unheeded
No opus can I find
My writing pad is empty.
Reflections of my mind.

I've tried to write for ages
But words still lie there, hid.
I couldn't write this poem.
But I very nearly did!

The Mad March Hare

This is the tale of a Mad March hare
Who felt the urge of Spring
He fell in love with a maiden fair
Because he heard her sing
She smiled on him so sweetly
And offered him a flower
So when she kissed him on the cheek
He yielded to her power.

Then  in the heat of Summer
She said she had to leave
His little heart was broken
For he'd pinned it to his sleeve
He said he'd learned his lesson
The next time, he co-habits
He'll stay away from fickle maids
And find some pretty rabbits.

Soon Winter followed Autumn
The days grew dark and cold
He was a him, and he longed for
A little hare to hold
At last in desperation
Our hero went quite funny
He found a friend called Warren
A beautiful boy bunny.

They set up house together
Beneath a willow  tree
No matter what the weather
They're happy as can be
They live there quite contented
Fulfilling all their wishes
The hare does all the cooking
And young Warren does the dishes

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