The knights were nestled all snug in their armor,
While visions of blood worried the farmers.
And mamma in her pen, with egg on the ground,
A new sense of terror from a worrysome sound.

When out in the pen there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our chores to see what was the matter.
Down passed the armory they came in a flash,
Flung open the doors ready to bash.

The moon shinning bright on the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of day to the egg cracking so slow.
When what to our horror filled eyes should appear,
But a miniature white dragon, with teeth from ear to ear.

With little white wings, so lively and quick,
We knew in a moment Petunia was ticked.
Faster than shield blocks her attacks they came,
Petunia attacked us while feeling no shame.

The Mother looked on with pleasant delight,
Daughter like Mother put up a magnificent fight.
Scorched and gored, from her fiery hot breath,
The knights withdrew for a night of needed rest.

She sharpens her teeth on the stone walls that surround,
A feeling of dread fills the air of the town.
Petunia now waits for an offering of food,
Which poor soul will be donating their blood.