Tecwyn. The Last of the Welsh Dragons

As the wonderful dragon streaked along,

with sparks flying where his claws struck the metal rails, he almost seemed to leave the ground. On the straight stretches, every now and then, he actually glided, and the children felt they were flying. The passengers cheered, and Hugh and Megan, still on his broad, scaly back, felt warm and happy and very proud of their wonderful dragon.

Tecwyn. The Last of the Welsh Dragons. As the wonderful dragon streaked along, with sparks flying where his claws struck the metal rails, he almost seemed to leave the ground. On the straight stretches, every now and then, he actually glided, and the children felt they were flying. The passengers cheered, and Hugh and Megan, still on his broad, scaly back, felt warm and happy and very proud of their wonderful dragon. Poem by Mary Dawson Jeffries UK.
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