Their steps can be heard all over the valley
A thumping noise that makes the ground tally
But only at full moon do they show, for they move in the darkness
Even the ground hides their stroll
Nobody had been hurt by their heavy steps
Nor was the forest in tatters
Its as if they does not exist
Perhaps it is the fantasy of the people in the unknown
For life is simple, imagination is what we’ve grown
© Christopher Stamfors
In the time of ancients
The trolls strolled around
Walking distant miles
Trampling life abound
But one day,
beneath the trees,
animals began to grow
Inhabits of the forest
Affected by the trolls stroll
Kind were the minds of the giants
Not wanting to hurt the critters under their feet
Deciding to go back the lands of old
One troll stayed his feet
Unsure what to do
The troll had an idea
On the ground he would never be a bother
So he lay on his stomach
And he watched the critters play
On his back and on his nose
Nature grew around his frame
And after many years
His body disappeared
Nature was a part of him
And the creatures they cheered
Happy was the troll to see his friends play
Movement was secondary
In the critters bay
For eons the troll still stayed
His limbs grown to the ground
A mountain he became
This was a shortened version of a rhyme picture book I’m working on. I plan to publish it, or at least try to find a publisher, so you’ll gonna have to make due with the short version!
The Horrors of Writing 