Breathing smoke, the dragon wakes
Yawning fire, and sighing quakes
Blinking storms, with eyes aglow
Spitting floods of lava flow
With arching back of shifting scales
And clawing hands of fingered shales
With Grabben skin of Trapp basalt
And crevassed frown of geo-fault
Its Lowveld feet and Highveld chest
And Great Escarpment’s rising breast
Its Kalahari appetite
And Mountain Kingdom’s heady height
Flanked by sea, it roams the plains
At Tswaing a footprint still remains
While carcass bones of fossil prey
Still litter Karoo mud and clay
Aeons pass, the dragon sleeps
Dreaming of the hoard it keeps
With gold and diamonds in its plunder
Blissful snores echo as thunder
— Wayne Visser