Troll by David R SpellmanFolklore may well never
Get the true sense of me
With which I play, jovially
As I ply these murky waters
Casting my uncertain lots
Without any feigned allure
With no hook, nor line,
Nor sinker to my angles
Just wishing to sing my song
And to sing it again perhaps
In so many different ways
Unabridged, uneven timed
Not to be dwarfed by nor
Seeking to become some giant
Longing only to be heard
From caverns in which I sing
And softly upon your hills.
07/16/2002 Posted on 07/24/2002 Copyright © 2024 David R Spellman
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