Short Story: Children's Book: Panda and the Dragon

[milo]

Hello

Here is a children's book I wrote.  All words art concepts and direction including describing the scene and characters was done by me.  The actual image renders of the illustrations were done by an AI agent.


Here are the words:

Panda and the Dragon 

Fridays are no good for dragon slaying:
First there's weeding -
weaving fingers through the soil
and cabbage roots until the worms
come wiggling up and dangle,
flop into the coffee can for Sunday's fishing.

Then the dogs, wheezing through
another hazy afternoon, letting
chops flow over paws until
they spill onto the packed earth
of the kennel - they need to chomp
and test the eye-rings of their tethers
lest their knees grow brittle
or the leather of their collars crack.

Still there's Friday evening
cocoa, spooned from pan to
mug before it skins, and an afghan
blanket pulled up tight to chin,
balancing a tin of popcorn
for the 'Friday Mystery Theatre'.

Saturday is the day -
to fetch the wombat armor,
cleave a thistle sword
and march -
past fields of loosestrife,
over shallow hills of clover,
down the ditch to where
the rusting graves of Ford DeSotos
pile, crowding lichened banks
of Guaryumpoo River.

The brace of cold against
a bare-knee'd fording
or the slimey muck that oozes
through the toes make
a teasing case for stopping
or exploring, but large-mouth
river pike or lampreys
like the meaty taste of
trawling legs, so it's a game
of hopping turtle-stones across.

Hidden in the Bumpkoo Mountains
on the way to Hawk's Nest pass
there are caves with scaly Basilisks
to guard the nests of smokey quartz.

And how much farther still
to the rippled basalt plains,
polished smooth with
bone-ash, piled high with charcoal
armor graves - and dragons playing?

Maybe just a peek inside the flannel
kerchief knapsack where two
peanut butter and honey sandwiches
are wrapped in banana leaves,
or maybe just a draught of bug juice -
after all it's hot -
and nothing beats a mid-day nap . . .

To the distant haunting of the Walrog's
baying moan and before the gremlin
clouds chew up the moon, Panda
double-tamps her padded feet
in staccatto rhythm to her heart
until she's reached the cobbled
pathway to her cottage home.

Anyway, tomorrow is a better day
for dragon slaying. 

I also have it available as a downloadable and printable PDF if anyone is interested

Thanks