“Witness now this handsome knight, leaning on his sword,

solid on the prow he stands, returning from abroad.

Here he is, brave St. George, the finest in the land,

home from crusading, shield and lance at hand.

As the ship sails closer and comes in sight of shore,

George looks in despair, the harbour is no more.

Masts of the once-proud-fleet, protrude from the water,

like a thousand crucifixes, on the field of slaughter.”

George rides through the town, now so ravaged and torn,

smashed, burnt and poisoned, covered in bracken and thorn.

‘Til through the clouds of poison rain, he sees a welcome sight,

his castle on a mountain high, bathed in a ray of light.

Thunder splits the air, lightning flashes all around,

from the pit beside the castle comes a frightful sound.

The rolling clouds of poison, churn and tear apart,

from the mighty thump thump thumping of a giant Dragon’s heart.

The Dragon rises from the gorge, filling all the sky,

he sees himself, a tiny George, reflected in its eye.

“Who are you?” The Dragon asks, “Have you come alone?”

Its voice is pure evil, like bone scraping bone.

This knight of the crusades, holding lance, shield and blade

sits upright upon his horse, grim yet unafraid.

“I’ve been abroad but now I’m home. My name is George, I stand alone.

There is no army only I, I’ll fight and win or fight and die.”

“Are you their greatest hero? I’ll fight you if I must,

to me you’re less than zero, a mere speck of dust.”

“Watch you don’t fall down now, the ground is quite unstable.”

And it flicks St. George off the bridge, like an ant from a picnic table.

As the Dragon spies him and flies down to seal his doom,

a secret door creaks open, hidden in the gloom.

Hands reach out and grab him, by his broken shoulders.

George is pulled in, just in time, by the castle’s soldiers.

For hours, days, weeks and months, he shows no sign of life,

laid upon the altar, in a shaft of light.

Though all about him think him dead, and the people grieve and weep,

George is down but never out, and strongest when in sleep.

He sees upon awakening the Princess of the land,

who has sat by him every day, holding his hand.

The land grows more decrepit as the Dragon flies overhead,

poisoning all with its fiery breath, until everything is dead.

George recovers slowly, he is but just a man,

and as he sits and contemplates, he starts to make a plan.

“To defeat this mighty Dragon, I must think like a fox,

I must take all my doubts and fears and place them in a box.”

So George melts down his armour and makes a box of iron and steel,

and in it puts his fears and doubts and all the dread he feels.

Finding his courage, he steels himself once more,

he takes a spear from the armoury wall and opens the castle door…

In the middle of the bridge, standing proud and tall,

George calls out “Let’s finish this, once and for all.”

Again the Dragon rises, rises from the gorge,

it sees him and starts laughing, laughing at St. George.

“Look who it is, speck of dust, back for another round?

The last time I saw you, you were heading for the ground.

Now you come at me with a toothpick, and in your underwear?

I do admire your spirit, but this will be unfair.”

George lobs the box straight at the beast, into its fiery blast.

The box explodes. Fear destroyed. George stands fast.

He throws the spear with all his might, as the Dragon inhales again,

the spear flies straight and true…piercing the Dragon’s brain.

Light explodes from the back of the Dragon’s head,

the people all start cheering, “The fearsome beast is dead”.

The spear was hurled at such a speed, ‘twas such a mighty throw,

that when the Dragon sucked it in it dealt a deadly blow.

The people on the castle walls, shout “Yes! George has done it!”,

as the Dragon topples backward and slides into the pit.

When the Dragon hits the bottom it splashes like a fountain,

as though a giant raindrop the size of a mountain.

And where each drop falls, on the thorny undergrowth,

a strange thing happens, red roses spring forth.

“Thank you George”, the Princess says, and stills his trembling hand,

“You slew the mighty Dragon, and also healed the land.”

George plucks the biggest rose in sight and hands it to the Princess,

who blushes at the gallant knight and rewards him with a kiss.

Now you know the story of this knight so tall and grand,

bold St. George of the cross, bravest in the land.

The last thing we have to tell you, as our tale draws to a close,

is remember on St George’s day to give your Princess a rose.