
In the fields of green hills rolling,
There you'll find a wise man strolling,
In his crimson robes all flowing,
With his beard of powdered snowing;
Teaching folk the ways of old,
To hide them from the evils cold.
The young ones glared with eyes afire,
"Tell us wise man about the shire?"
- "Of elves a work and gomes at play?
The shire to you, will a secret stay."
This was 'cuz the race that magic brewed,
Could be angered by their temper, shrewd.
So 'till the sun began to wander,
Passed the hills and fennel yonder,
The man would sit and tell of tales,
Of sorcery, and dragon trails.
Steve Horgan
(Originally Published by CASE Publishers)
About the Creator
Steve Horgan
My very first article published in a Canadian national newspaper was an interview with a recipient of the Duke of Edinburgh Award. Over the years I've developed a colorful relationship with writing. From journalism to poetry and beyond.


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