His kitchen was a hush as all fell asleep,
Stomachs stuffed with cured mead, bread, and meat.
The feast flung songs up high to the heavens,
Now a faint dripping sound was all that could be found.
Drip, drop, drip, not all were asleep,
Drip, drop, drip, not a sink did he keep,
Yet drip, drop, drip, sang the liquid with the ground,
Then a slosh and a spat, something wet moved around.
.
Drip, drop, drip went the rag as it flipped,
Wiping and lapping up the spills like a whip.
Slosh, pop, slosh, the mop made a dive,
With a vigor it glided as if it were alive.
.
For the night was the time the kobolds came alive,
Those hunched over ugly little creatures of the mines.
With faces like shriveled up old coats; not mink,
And skin hard as stone and red as brick.
.
The End
.
Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash
.
Hey love. So I decided to change the tone a bit this time and share something from my Work in Progress. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Kobolds?
They’re a strange little fascinating sprite-like creature not quite unlike the brownie. You know, those tiny little magical creatures that are invisible to the human eye and for whatever reason do random house chores for a bowl of milk or cream?
Those ones...
The kobold is sort of like that, only it’s horribly ugly, hunched over, and somewhat resembles a lizard, or is it a rat, sometimes both… hahaha. I really love fantasy, it’s fun to mess up with readers’ minds.
Imagination is the truest form of magic. Don’t you agree?
.
Do you like what I do? Then consider supporting me on Ko-fi
[kofi]
.