With night's approach and days retreat, as floor boards reverb with pajamad feet, readies the nest for when lights are snuffed, as sheets are turned down and pillows fluffed; t'is then daddy will cart his trooper in, as mommy leads the way - and then on bended knee all three as one will say their peace to God and Son; and naught is so cherished in Heaven above as is this prayer so rapt with love.

Come that moment when amens are finished, and big folks by little arms are squished until their hearts have swelled in girth, tis then a child truly knows its worth; wee manikin is tucked in bed, who asks that a fairy tale be read, ere parents retreat with blessed goodnights; and mommy lastly gets the lights.

Even before the lamplight fades, and Saturn haunts the window's shades; as a crescent moon plays tag with tides, the sandman saddles up and rides on an ebon steed named Shalimar that can trot with the pace of a shooting star that shimmers across the purple strands, joining nether worlds and nether lands;

As little eyes with wonder gaze they trancelike fall into a daze, as hooves across the azure rock, in rhythm, to the pendulum of a clock [TICK-TOCK TICK-TOCK], tossing about like gentle waves at sea, swaying like the topmast of a tree; thus in no time at all it seems, the sandman has arrived with his bag of dreams.

No matter if outside a thunder peals, no matter if an angry gale mouth squeals, or whether night skies are star strewn or barren, or if a soggy monsoon is geared up and roaring, or if rain, sleet, hail, or snowy down, or Jack Frost is nipping at the hedgerow's gown, and Chanticleer has its head tucked beneath its wing, or the groundhog has postponed an early spring; these have little impact once the Sandman comes, thrum-thrumming on his hypnotic timpani drums [THRUM-THRUM THRUM-THRUM].

Worry and care is eclipsed [way by far] by the grand marshal horse, Shalimar, and as it lays tracks across the sand there will follow in its wake a caravan; from whence a camel will approach and kneel; and proffer a ride but only - if you will; and guide you it east or guide you it west, the camel will march for you know best; but keep in mind all is as it seems while in this desert of arid dreams; at your whim, the sands couldchange to salt sea air and the camel become a wave cresting privateer.

One moment you are an able captain on the choppy seas, and the next a jet-setting man [or child] of mystery; and by the time you can count [one, two-and-a-half, three] you can become anyone, at any point in history. But no matter your diversion the whole night through, you can come to no harm despite what you do. For that is the magic of the shimmering strands, joining nether dream worlds to nether dreamlands.

Come dawn, ere the sunsaunters around the bend the Sandman swings his mount again; and clutching his sack in his sweeping right hand, he gathers the dream road all in again; Shalimar zips them away across the gloaming skies and [POOF] the camel train has vanished, leaving you sitting in bed and rubbing your eyes.

Meanwhile your ears [for awhile] are attuned to the far waning thrum of the retreating percussion of timpani drums. And memory cannot, for all it seems, recall the face of the man, that bringer of dreams;

But as sure as the moon plays tag with tides, come tonight the Sandman willremount and ride; and with a nod of his head, a flash of his white teeth, and a sweep of his hand, he'll dole out dreams as he spills out sand, on the toes of a mystical, [a magical] caravan.

Clippety-Clop, Clippety-Clop, Clippety-Clop

The other evening i was traipsing down this deserted lane with my club resting on me shoulder searching for a campsite away from civilized folks for to cook my vittles and to map out the stars before i hunkered down to sleep when a ittle lassie came skipping up the cobblestone path from behind and takened me by the finger

She waren t more than a mouthful and was dressed in a ittle pink hood wit matching boots and stockinged legs and she carried a ittle twig of a branch in her free hand like a riders crop and a wicker baskinet was swinging from her elbo

This ittle lassie she just kept on keeping stride skipping along beside o me whil st clinging to my finger bone and all the while she never give me a sideways glance and nonstop she yammered on like a yackitty jaybird what is shaking pinecones down outen the tree onto my head when i d oversleep in springtime

Her forwardness disarmed me and i forgot about the hunger that had been gnawing at my innards moments before and the muscles at each end of my lips began to tighten till my mouth drawed up at the corners into a smile

We hadn t traveled far along our mutual path into the wood when we overtook this badly nourished fellow a wolfish gent dressed all in black sequined leather who was a leaning with his shoulder blades supported gainst the intimacy of a tree s shadow and him chewing on a fat alfalfa stem wit flashy gold capped teeth

His alligator boots crossed at the ankles and fedora pulled down to shade the mal intent in his eyes narrowed eyes that followed every step of the chile what skipped at my knee and a cold shiv ring wind crept thru the trees and it whispered

[What a tender young creature] [what a nice plump mouthful] [at any cost i must have her]

As if she d heard the ittle lassie turned her head his way and stuck out her tongue and laughed and laughed such a clever young thing she was not at all afraid of him but he was right to be wary of me for i am i for all to see and i am TROLL he ducked off into the trees but i knowed she d not seen the last of him for he was a tenacious one - and crafty like the wolf that he was

The ittle tyke held onto my han as we followed that winding lane thru the wood until we d reached a cottage what stood with its door ajar whereat she let go her hold and skipped thru the doorway an me i stepped over near the window and lissened a spell from the outside and it be a good thing that i did what i done

[Oh grandmother she said what big ears you have] [the better to hear you with my child was the reply] [but grandmother what big eyes you have she said] [the better to see you with my dear] [but grandmother what large hands you have] [the better to hug you with] [oh but grandmother what a terrible big mouth you have] [the better to eat you with] .... and scarcely had the crafty wolf who was posing as her ailing granmuther said this than with one bound he was out of bed and ....

Thats when my big arm flashed thru the open window

I grabbed him up by his sarcoptic nape with me big calloused hand relishing in the feel of fragmentatin vertebrae within my tight grasp and the little chile looking on wit them big scairt eyes could hardly unnerstand why i was a choking her granmuther who s hairy feet thrashed the empty air two skips offen the floor but i am TROLL and i ain t one fer explainin nor seeking approval for the things i do so i fetched the unresponsive brute thru the window and shook him inside out like a pair of ole trousers and after i hanged him up by his heels from a tree

I entered thru the door and that ittle rose hooded lassie was still standing there frozen like wit a big tear building at the bottom of her eyen so i fetched a bundle from the closet what turned out to be her granmuther bound and gagged and near to death and my heart shore beat easier cause that ittle lassie forgive me for my brutish methods she wiped that big ole tear away onto her sleeve an she even give me a hug an me a TROLL even

Granmuther was a tough ol gal and once she d got a piece of cake and a bottle of wine inside o her what her ittle granchile had brung along in the baskinett she went outside and took a broom to that wolf in the tree till she was wore plum out then we put her to bed an i seen the chile safe back home

The night waned on an the ittle lassie was comfy and snug in her own bed and me i was sleeping on the ground wit grimy lips and a full belly beside a dwindling campfire where come daylight a score of camp crows was a fighting over meat scraps clinging to the ample bones scattered about the base of a cauldron what had stewed me latest supper

For i am TROLL an i hadn't et me supper yet when i d got back to camp that night but i knowed the way back to granmuthers house that pasty gent in the tree he wasn t much but once i d added a plump granmuther to the pot along with a dab o salt and the sweet taters i d plundered from her pantry my supper was complete

I ve been counting on me fingers an me toes and in seven more nights it ll be halloween that s when me and the ittle un is going trick er treating [tergither] she knows the way to every house in the neighboring wood an after once i see her safely home i m going back for seconts an i m totin a bigger sack for - after all

i am TROLL [yours for propriety]

On nights whan star points map the purple scape and moonshine lamps the water whan windsong courts the willow trees whose limber arms invite him wit leafen skirts o feathered fronds baring knobby knees tha curtsy

Whan glassy-eyed does wit spotted fawns wade shallow rills to deeply drink o the ripples in the moon whan nature flows in harmony but for eddies in the stream be wary whan you stir aboot for a ghostly mist eet rises

O er piney wood o er sandy slope born o marshy bog and bottom like goosely down eet carries on steady sans momentum eet gains the fields devouring crops though eet barely stirrs a tassle

And when it meets the pasture gate eet climbs above eet creeps below in pillow shapes o rapture till it o ertakes the unwitting kine who ve bedded down to slumber

Not satisfied by this fine feast eet looks about for plunder eet ascends the hill whar grass doth bend and on towards a dwelling eet gathers bout a earthen well whar a gourd hangs for dipping downward doth it wildly slip to imbibe of drouthy blisses

Then up again eet jettisons from hill to dome to city devouring all in its path and ever so s the pity until its found a city plat outside an open window whan wit a wisp o curling lip eet mounts the sill eet enters

Wit frightful damp and chilly breath distilled in expectation eet takes a mighty inward pounce in past the shallow curtain to land flat-footed on the floor near whar you sit perusing wit eyes affixed upon this print

and

not knowing it has come you feel eets icy fingers what startle you and whan you turn

... yikes ...

You cannot flee thar ees no time for at this moment eet attacks and bathes you in wet kisses

At which time eet might be prudent if you was to close the window as some folks will catch their death from a draegons breath but never ever will they from the lady Faug herself

- i am TROLL

Some while ago out on the plain i met a man while it did snow and then another day in rain this man and i we met again both tymes he d wave and yell [halloo ... get thee away from me you trowe fly back wit that foul wind what blu or wit me point i ll run ye thru] a third day far out on the ice i saw this man when he fell through i watched him plunge and bob up twice but pulled him free ere he d sank three i labored with him by the heel until we d reached my far chateau once there i chased away his chill then kindly i spoke to show good will [i ve aided ye as neighbors do therefore i ll ask for i must know do you judge me like i judge you] he broadly smiled [indeed i do] with that i frowned and said [oh well this then should come as no great blow] i clobbered him atop his shell and promptly ate him toof and nail

- i am TROLL [yours for serendipity]

Long, long ago dinosaurs roamed this swampy world and called it home. the mighty beast preyed upon the lesser or so i was told by my professor.

And somewhere within the jungle of grog lived a seed-spitting, monkey-toed, rhinoceros hog the tastiest bacon that ever was born and it was wrapped in pigskin, beneath a rhinoceros' horn

Is it no wonder that it was sought after by the meat-eating t-rex and velociraptor who came to grog jungle seeking both breakfast and lunch and of course a seed-spitting, monkey-toed, rhinoceros hog brunch

Now this piglet had a great big horn on its snoot that came in quite handy in uprooting roots it feasted on melons that grew on grog nile and could spit a seed at least a grog mile

At home in the muck and swaddling vine it slept in the hollow of a nile melon rind till the large meat eaters rousted it out and littered grog jungle with ownerless snouts

Needless to say when the feasting was done if you sought through all of grog jungle you could find only one and this piglet proclaimed: "they'll never eat me just to make sure,i'll climb the world's tallest tree."

So using its toes it climbed up to where the uppermost branches tickled the air hanging by its fingers from the outermost limb it observed the hungry dinosaurs searching for him

They stomped on the melons and fished the grog mire but not the first one of them thought to search higher safe in a tree above the jungle of grog long dwelt the seed-spitting, monkey-toed, rhinoceros hog

Each evening it would climb down using strong monkey toes and spear a ripe melon with the horn on it's nose it would carry it high to the branches above and feast on the sweet flesh it so dearly did love

At night in the heavens two full moons would arise that looked much like melons both in shape and in size perhaps they were two melons dangling up there and were delicious like the fruits on the isle of wambahr

"Oh, if only such a melon were to grow on grog nile and why should it not, can i not spit a grog mile perhaps even farther if i will only practise my throw once i've knocked down a melon it's seeds will soon grow

It then spat a hard seed at a raptor on knool a far distant mountain at the edge of gambool the seed struck with precision on the tendermost loin then richocheted off and is most likely still going

It then turned to the moon that hung straight above and spat a seed from it's tongue using it's mightiest shove that little seed struck with a thunderous sound and the moon broke in half and came tumbling down

One half of the moon struck in the desert of tulle the other half landed in the mountains of knool it cracked open the earth and made hot lava run and a mountain of dust soon blocked out the sun

The ice age began and i assure you my friend that is how the mighty dinosaur came to it's end you have probably wondered why there is only one moon in our sky so i have included a free lesson whereby the dangers of spitting apply

I have heard it whispered by the crashing waves in the sea that somewhere to this day survives the world's oldest tree and in the uppermost branches with it's eyes still agog clings a seed-spitting, monkey-toed, rhinoceros hog

the end

Way far back in the Age Of Stone when tools were made of rock and bone in a cave in the hills of the mountain of snow lived a primitive man we shall call 'UH OH' he was a huntsman, a herdsman, and a regular JOE

The commonest man whom ever was born with a heel that was thicker than the bite of a thorn with a mind more stubborn than the heart of a stone he was a handsome fellow with low frontal bone and i've often wondered why he lived all alone

Once while on the jagged cliffs overlooking the brae he was to be eaten by a Brontosaur while defacing a tree but the grim beast slipped on a wet patch of snow and plunged into the river 1000 feet below the dinosaur died ... but not 'UH OH'

These primitive folk spoke in guttural grunts rarely was heard more than one syllable at once but 'UH OH' was a man of notorious fame and wherever he ventured it was always the same others would greet him with the sound of his name

It was a harsh world in which he was living the climate was cold and the fates unforgiving he once had three friends with whom he would hang "OHMI ... GOONESS ... and ... IBEDANG" whom were named as they were being eaten by a Catamarang

The short nature of his friendships was always the same so he made it a point to take note of their names like the time he awakened a wicked Wack in its cave while swiping the eggs from a Grapple Footed Gnave his comrades were warriors, both fearless and brave

So he raced outside and sealed the mouth of the cave trapping that Wack in the cave of the Gnave the first to perish was MERCI then LAWDI then GEEZ then OPUN...and...THEEDO...then WEBEG...YU...and...PLEEZ then finally...GOBBUL...KRUNCH...MUNCH...and WHEEZ

The last one was a fighter ...BURRRRRRP...was his name he was the last to be eaten but the fellow was game for he rattled the mountain as he fought with the Wack almost rolling the large stone free from its track 'UH OH' was hard pressed to keep it held back

'UH OH' was saddened by the loss of his friends but he wasn't surprised, for that seemed the trend he left the large stone in the mouth of the cave and laboriously chiseled their names on the grave along with that of the Wack and the Grapple Footed Gnave

Another time while searching for the eggs of the Dag who nested on a sheer cliff, in an uppermost crag he lost a dear friend he'd scarce got to know while he reached down to aid him he somehow let go "OOPS" he greeted ... his friend replied "UH OOOOOOH"

It was the year of the birth of the Hundred Year Snow the temperature had dropped to 90 below he was fishing through the ice for the Spike-Tailed Krim when he got the wild notion to go for a swim and 'UH OH' was known to follow his whim

His fellow villagers found his clothing on the ice by the hole and they throwed a big shindig that same evening i'm told with feasting and dancing and all sorts of wahoo he was eulogized by such fellows as 'YEEHAW'...and...'YAHOO' the final toast of the night gave us the word ...'TOODALOO'

Not soon after his celebrated demise the population of man was on the rise and so you'll see, after some reflection 'UH OH' fell prey to natural selection (it's nature's way of maintaining direction)

And yet, found frozen in an iceberg and meticulously thawn is a primitive man from the age of stone i'm afraid he is dead, as you should know but his DNA is intact, and that we can show could be used to clone another primitive 'UH OH'

the end

Young hector was a mighty hound who worried hart and hare he d often run the fox to ground and hold at bay the bear come evenings when the chase was done he d lie down at the hearth while master oiled his fowling gun and praised him for his worth

Them days were rich and golden ones and hector seized the years to rear a pride of headstrong sons with cotton in their ears and hector let them have the stage while he sat on the porch like one befitting of his age who d done passed on the torch

Come evenings when the day was done he d lie down at the hearth and gaze on masters fowling gun and question of his worth they d no place in the chase no more he well nigh faced the truth one gathered rust inside its bore and one was long of tooth

Then came a night like none before when robbers broke inside they knocked old master to the floor and kicked his dog beside old hector was a gentle hound who d harm nor hart nor hare but him that swung his boot quick found he thought he d kicked a bear

More swift than sparks amid a storm frail hector was no more those infidels saw him transform into the hound of yore he chewed the kneecap off the first then flew at cheek and chin they bled they fought they cried they cursed still he would not give in

Till in the melee of the fight one struck a lucky blow who grasped a broken table leg and laid old hector low the thieves retreating out the door addressed old master thus old man of this you can be sure next time we finish this

Old master s grasped his hunting horn he s called his children home and ere they ve took one day to mourn he s led them off to roam they ve trailed the robbers to their roost who marvel at the sounds they think that hell has been unloosed but its just masters hounds

Old hector begot many a hound who ve worried hart and hare they ve often run the fox to ground and held at bay the bear come evenings when the chase is done they lay down at the hearth while master oils his fowling gun and smiles to know their worth

- Geo. Avery

Insomnia poured into a cup no cream nor sugar added two slabs of bacon thinly sliced [sizzling] on the skillet [burning] my house keeps an untidy yard for winds and rains to play in while memory props an open window for starry nights to stray in pencil poised i hold my course and by mid morning of the seventh day i ve steered my spaceship into the sun rejoicing [oh rapture] i am done

- TROLL [yours for the renaissance]