The Sleeping Lizard

At the rocky mountain, a sleeping lizard lay.

Bellows of fire. Now awake.

"What to do?" It asked itself.

"Fly around?" It cheered itself.

Looking around at the ground below, it wondered why it didn't bellow snow.

As it wandered on amongst the white so high, it spotted another, not far, close by.

It let out a roar with fire and flame. To catch more attention, it did it again.

Ignored but not bothered, it carried on and flew, making its journey home to the place it knew.

A puff of smoke from a yawn from a lizard tired out. Blue became black as the day drew out.