Once upon a winter morning,
While I awoke, tired and squirming,
Over many quaint and curious
Dreams about a polar bear--
While I laid there, blankets bunching,
Suddenly there came a crunching,
In front of me, a creature hunching,
Hunching over a dead hare.
''Tis some goblin,' I muttered,
'Hunching over a dead hare
Surely not a yeti, awoken from its lair.'
By Yeggard Alvon Zoe
This item is a part of the collection: Goblin Poetry (Ankexfen Keep).