(An homage to the first proper poem I ever learnt and still one of my favourites, Jabberwocky. Although I always felt a bit sorry for the dragon, so I wrote this from his point of view).

Creep little dragon, in the wabe, where slithy toves do gire and gimble,
A vorpal sword hunts for your head so keep your footsteps lithe and nimble,
And please beware the beamish boy who wields that wicked blade,
He wants you dead, to take your head, and with it let his name be made,
Hide your deadly biting smile and sheath your catching claws,
And harken to the Jub jub bird, listen for its calls,
The bandersnatch will guard your back that you may guard your front, 
And though I know it's tempting, stay hidden, don't go on the hunt,
Resist the need to  burble, dim your flamed and fiery eyes,
Creep quietly through the tulgey wood and take him by surprise, 
And the snicker-snacks of vorpal blades will not be heard tonight,
So creep little dragon, quietly, for soon enough you'll fight,
Let not him say, "callooh, callay, nor chortle in his joy, 
For there's an uffish boy to slay so hurry, slay this uffish boy,
And though I know, you do not wish to see this young prince dead,
Blame his foolish father, for sending him to take your head,
Then creep little dragon, through the wabe, where slithy toves do gire and gimble, 
And let the heads of beamish princes act as charm and warning symbol, 
Let all these, "Righteous," kings of men be filled with quaking fear,
And let them leave the tulgey woods, "For dragons still live here!"