Three soldiers cowardly scorn,

Hiding from their superiors in a field of corn,

But joy! a dragon who seemed to have kindness in his heart,

Carried them away but soon the trouble would start,

A magic money-making whip is the dragon's gift,

For seven years, more if through his words they could sift,

If they can't into the belly of the beast they would go,

Thus began a seven year woe,

Money they made as the years progressed,

But the memory of the upcoming riddle did not digress,

The worry drove the soldiers' mouths to shut,

Then to one soldier a kindly old woman extended an invite to her hut,

She hid him away for you see,

Her bond with the dragon was grandmotherly,

The day before the Dragon set the feast,

Grandma Dragon asked, "Which riddle is it this time, my devilish beast?"

"The one about the feast meat, spoon, and wineglass, Grandmother dear."

"And the answer I've forgotten, I fear."

"The meat, dear Grandmother, is a dead sea-cat you see,

But specifically it died in the North Sea.

The spoon is not something to quib,

For it is made of a giant whale rib,

As for the wineglass, of course,

Is nothing short of a hoof of a horse!"

The soldier silently smiled with glee,

Now they all would live, it was a guarantee!

When the dragon left, he ran back in a rush,

He had to tell the others, he knew that much,

He told them everything he knew,

And they all knew just what to do,

The next evening dining at the Dragon's table,

Each took a turn answering as able,

"What meat have I served you?" 

"You're aware it is Northern Sea cat, aren't you?"

"Surely, the spoon's material you don't know?"

"Finest whale rib! Who gave it to you, the Eskimo?"

"Naturally you must know the wineglass of course,"

"Indeed, it is made of horse!"

The dragon grinned and gave them their freedom,

From then on they were richer than the grandest kingdom.