The Troll in a Hole

Bolf was a troll

Who lived in a hole,

Doing nothing at all,

Or so I am told,

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One day while alone,

In his dank little home,

A stick falling into the hole,

Struck his troll dome.

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Grabbing hold of the stick,

Bolf made ready to hit,

The culprit, the thick,

Who played the cruel trick,

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But on gazing outside,

His dank little hide,

Bolf saw no one in sight,

With his beady troll eyes.

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Then he saw the fine day,

Not damp and all grey,

Like his hole in the clay,

That he thought was okay.

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Climbing out of his hole,

Bolf fell in love with it all,

The beautiful world,

God’s gift to us all.

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