The Thing From Beneath the Rock

‘Twas rare that ordinary folk had e’er beheld the make

Of such a one that dwelt below the boulder by the lake.

~

But there it bided in the dank, the dark, and smelly rot,

And none could e’er have guessed what was the purpose of its lot.

~

Upon removal of the stone that covered up its bed,

It stirred and tried to run, but then, it reared its horrid head.

~

It brandished claws and might have gored whatever hand came near;

Its mandibles were set to snap, with power that could shear.

~

It raised its wings of em’rald hue, an awesome sight were they.

But lo! They faltered from its weight; it could not fly away.

~

For it had slept these many days, now having laid it eggs,

And now it scurried in the sun, on spiny, wobbly legs.

~

Somewhere, not far, it dug a hole, and there the batch was sprung;

And lovingly, that grubby brood was wrapped in healthy dung.

~

It urinated now to show its foulness could repel;

Perhaps the ones that moved the rock would recoil from the smell.

~

But they were not to be denied, now that they’d found the beast;

They watched in wonder unafraid, not flinching in the least.

~

No, they were titans of a kind that looked at things with awe,

And being children, they were charmed by everything they saw.

~

They did not kill the scary thing with dark and homely mug,

For, after all, they’d never seen a green and shiny bug.

~

They put the rock back in its place, without a hint of harm,

And on that sunny, summer day, they skipped back to the farm.

r. nuñez, 8/2014