Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #129
The Giant Lost
by Belinda Roddie
The giant lost at cards the other night
against two dwarves, an elf, and an old witch
with pointy hat and everything. He might
not have done so hot, but he didn't bitch,
just simply smiled. "I'd shake your hands," he said,
"but I'm afraid my grip is just too strong,
and I could crush both your arms and your head."
He sat against the wall and took a long
drink from his enormous flagon of ale,
while the dwarves lit cigars and the elf slipped
the deck of cards away. A distant wail
of wind could be heard, and the old witch quipped,
"That's my cue to leave." She hopped on her broom,
cried, " 'Til next week!" and sailed out of the room.
by Belinda Roddie
The giant lost at cards the other night
against two dwarves, an elf, and an old witch
with pointy hat and everything. He might
not have done so hot, but he didn't bitch,
just simply smiled. "I'd shake your hands," he said,
"but I'm afraid my grip is just too strong,
and I could crush both your arms and your head."
He sat against the wall and took a long
drink from his enormous flagon of ale,
while the dwarves lit cigars and the elf slipped
the deck of cards away. A distant wail
of wind could be heard, and the old witch quipped,
"That's my cue to leave." She hopped on her broom,
cried, " 'Til next week!" and sailed out of the room.
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