I am an old Dragon
To be precise an Old Draconian
Old in man years anyway
Almost three score years and ten
Though that is probably young
As dragons go – joined in ‘62
Leaving class of ‘66.
We wore a uniform of
Rufty-tufty, navy-blue corduroy
No namby-pamby
“How To Train Your Dragon” this…
Boys with siblings from older clutches
Inherited the faded battle dress style
Uniforms – wore them with pride.
We learned to swim in a river
Conquering our fear of Willow roots
Reaching for our doggy paddling legs
And on the playing fields in late summer
A whole barrel of cherries would appear
For our delectation and at another time
Also, we presumed, the gift of an Old Dragon
A crate of pomegranates appeared
To introduce our tastebuds to the exotic.
Seasonally, we played marbles
Tricky enough when our playground
Sloped from all directions
To a central drain and my best friend
Espying the gathered horde collected there
Lifted the grate and clawed up
Aggies, bottle tops and common spirals
But lost a nail replacing
The heavy cast iron piece
Causing blood to flow
Unfelt with the shock.
Most Dragons scions
Of the rich and good of the land
Knowing their path to wealth
Would be smoothed at every step
But I came from humbler stock
Yet my parents, believing that
Rubbing shoulders with the best
– Though not a comfortable experience
For the young dragon, I was-
Suffering mildly from imposter syndrome
– Would alone be preparation
For life’s later battles
They scrimped and saved
That I might attend
The Dragon School, Oxford…
Andrew Wilson, 2024
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, kim881 in Poetics invites us to write about Legendary Creatures which as you have read, I, albeit modestly, must count myself amongst…
https://www.dragonschool.org/
Your whimsical old dragon made me smile, Andrew. Your poem is nostalgic, wistful and whimsical, and in my mind I saw a proud dragon in a ‘uniform of rufty-tufty, navy-blue corduroy’. Your poem has echoes of Dylan Thomas’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog, especially the lines:
‘We learned to swim in a river
Conquering our fear of Willow roots
Reaching for our doggy paddling legs’.
I used to love playing marbles on a drain! My favourites were the deep blue and coca cola coloured ones.
Interesting tale and school – a sort of apprenticeship to a guild girding professional life … In the US, only military academies come close, another lamentable loss in the initiation of youth. Modernity has lost so much slaying all its dragons.
The Dragon School challenged in various ways but challenge is what makes one, thanks Brenda…
Brendan – sorry typing on the phone without specs…
I love the tale of how your growing up from the young dragon the old one (now in its lair), also telling me how different the school systems are in different countries.
What an interesting take on the dragon prompt, Andrew. I could identify with much of what you shared. Not too much fire left in these old bones! :>)
Ahh – you look fit as a fiddle, Dwight – thanks for that…
We lived at Wolfson College for a while and were married by the Dragon School Chaplain
If we had lived in Oxford when they were young- we would have sent our boys to the Dragon school. For the adventure.
Wow! What a coincidence Kim! I left home in Oxford in 1973…
HI Andrew, how wonderful to have attended Oxford. My husband’s uncle lectured English there. He was an expert on Dickens. This is a delightful poem. I love your Old Dragon metaphor. My mother also learned to swim in the river. She grew up in Bungay in Suffolk and is a bit older than you at 86.
I only went to school there, Robbie – first the Dragon School and then Magdalen college School. My dad was a lecturer in Mechanical Engineering but when it came time for university, I wanted to leave home…
Enjoyed this one so much, Andrew, especially as a window into that world where one doesn’t quite fit in and yet the Dragon School made you the “Old Draconian” that you are today! All the details of “dragon school” — so descriptive of the hard knocks of training without the path “smoothed at every step” — drive home the challenge and also the glory.
You hit the nail on the head Dora, thank you…
Enjoyed this whimsical, nostalgic tale, Andrew.
Thanks Sara – writing an autobiography one poem at a time…
you brought together dragon tales, marble games, imposter syndrome, Oxford, and more so effortlessly !! loved this
Thanks, Vidya, kind words…