The Land of Whistling Sheep

(Canto II)

The Caves were some way from the shore

Each a dark and fearsome place

And where the light did filter in

Its horrid gleam revealed a trace

A hint of pigment on the wall

Wild runes inscribed on left and right,

And as you ventured further in,

A carved ram's head, in glowing white

Four men there were, wild-eyed and dazed

Yet none were chained nor fastened there

They seemed rooted, transfixed by fear,

Afraid to leave the dread Stan's lair

We gave them mead and roots to eat

 Perchance we hoped, to break the spell

To get our men to leave the caves

('t were filled with bats, good Gods, the smell!)

©The Poetic Priestess 2002