A poet by any other trade
was never at a loss for words
when propositioned or commisioned be
aranged.
Till that day when dreaded fell
ringing on the door bell
a giant troll with eyes of full
hunger entered.
With open gasp an not a sound
quickly with rope was bound
and carried off to some far away
port.
With a few good wiggles and a writhe
and struggling with all her might
the poet escaped from bounded
enslavery.
And within days of sorely travel
back at home, she did not allow
the troll but a second to
react.
Pen in hand and hand in book
she wrote down things with out a look
and soon said troll was equilly
bound.
Then quickly gaged so not to wimper
crossed the poets trusty rapier
plundged deep into the carcus that
said troll was no more.
With deep relief the poet gleemed
that the torment would have seemed
to be gone from the life of said
poet.

And then the doorbell rang again.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Midautumn, in the year 114 MA.