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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The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 