Drop By

West of the hill, in a lithe little gully

Neath a pine tree lies an elvish gate

Both square and circle it beckons 'enter'

And those who do have lost their fate

Weaving through short grass and tall trees

Avoiding giants, constantly irate

If you happen upon my humble cabin

I'll walk you in with a human gait

God bless,

>P<

Joshua Fahey