The bridge at Lampswick has always been there
And the Troll to capture the small children too
Though the folk tolerated the small tragedies
For the Troll would bring them fame, is true
They thought to be finally rid of him
And they offered an Urn of pure gold
Many came and asked what task to do
Then left when they were told
All but one, a young women fair
Who went to the Troll to talk
He came from a shelf under the bridge
When across it she did walk
He asked her what soul had she
To take on such a fearsome task?
For in truth he was an awesome brute
She stood quite tall, then spoke at last
I know your deeds my dreaded Phooka
You spread the lies about yourself
About how you eat the little children
And wait there upon your shelf
But why do only mistreated children disappear?
The truth, when told, is stranger still
You gather them to your Faerie home
Just under this very hill
You give them love and wholesomeness
For in this world they had a lack
You give them truth and taught the way of things
When grown you give them back
Lords and Ladies, every one
The pride of human kind
With warm memories of their childhood
And the love they did there find
For an ugly Troll who hid himself
To become their one true father
A teacher of love and the wisest ways
No one could take them further
The Troll sat down and began to cry
For every word she said was true
She said donÕt cry my fair prince
For I have come to marry you
With such a family grown so large
By the neglect thatÕs in the world
A womanÕs hand could well be used
With that declared, from the Troll, smoke did unfurl
And there stood before her a kindly man
Fair of face, strong and straight of limb
For all his love the spell was cast
Again to the man he once had been
He lost his child one sad, sad day
And chased her to the nether lands
He saw the care her little soul received
Yet still hard of heart he made his demands
When those who guarded that Kingdom fair
Saw that he certainly did not belong
They sent him back quite quickly
In the Troll form he had held so long
But from his trek he knew the other worlds
Some dreary cold, some bright paradise
So he vowed to help the children
Who suffered their parents vice
When one who came loved him still
In spite of his awful looks
Those who guarded the Kingdom
Opened up the treasured book
And gave him back his former shape
And forgave his one grieve borne trespass
For they, these two, had found the whole
And through the Fearie gate did pass
To gain the children Underhill
And bring them to this side
To live a fair and goodly life
The Lord and his new Bride
Ken Lehnig writes that he is "a composer, a writer, singer, speaker, musician, teacher, a retired building contractor, artist, self-taught web guy and fool. I do my best to express the fool in me when ever I can. Come see: www.klstoryteller.com"
© 1986 Ken Lehnig
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