Bark the Troll
Before the time of urban plight
There was the realm of magic and might
When races of Earth varied more
Than colour, religion or country shore
One beast of wood from ages ago
Blue skinned and wrinkled from head to toe
Aptly named Bark, a troll was he
Voice of an old dog, hide of an oak tree
Of man he thought as wild and savage
Always on horse for a village to ravage
Great trees he’d fall, great walls built up
Then spilled his wine from golden cup
So Bark stayed hid where fierce men roam
Deep in the forest in his sycamore home
Caring not for man and his foes
But tended instead to gardens of rose
Happy was he all short and round
Digging away with fingers in ground
For his love is spent on things that grow
This beast of wood from ages ago