GRÖENDL – a poem by Firle Lewes

I am delighted to post a wonderful poem from Firle Lewis


I give you - GRÖENDL



On Midsummer’s Day, in the middle of the Night, When you’re all in bed and sleeping tight, The Gröendl comes walking down the street, With his great big hands and his great big feet. And on his back are two big kettles, For brewing tea, with gin and nettles - Around his belt he carries moles, A handkerchief and bag of holes. You’ll need to keep your door locked tight Or else he’ll give you such a fright, He’ll cause such mischief, quite unseen – Then disappear, like he’s never been. He’ll take the sheets from off your line And make them into knotted twine - Then fish all day for purple whales And eat them whole, without their tails. If you’re not good, he’ll send his elves To steal the toys from off your shelves, They’ll take the bark out of your dogs And turn them into spotted frogs. They’ll pepper your cakes and blunt your tools And hide your socks, by rocks and pools, They’ll put black treacle in your hats And tie balloons to all your cats. But for those that do so well behave, They’ll leave a treat outside their cave, A lucky charm, so small and neat, To bring good luck, to all they meet.

THE END

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