Monday, June 13, 2011

The Troll

by James von Dielingen


Situated atop my credenza
Was a troll with mild influenza

With cigar in his mouth he did grin
Thinking of just how to begin

With a dull and serrated knife
He threatened to shorten my life

He grinned and let out a cackle
And lunged at me for a tackle

I ducked to avoid the impact
For I didn’t know how else to act

His leap launched him over my head
Had he hit me I’d surely be dead

He slammed his head into the table
And weebled and wobbled, unstable

Such a racket emerged from his gob
That my poor eardrums began to throb

He screamed and stamped his feet
And threw his small blade in defeat

For his noggin I brought him some ice
He thought that was awfully nice

The troll and I soon became friends
But that’s not how this story ends

The troll now protects my house
From vermin like raccoon or mouse

I ought to feel so greatly blessed
To have such a protective guest

But, when friends come over to see me
The troll sometimes pretends to be me

Then threatens to stab or fillet
And scares all my company away

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