The following is a traditional goblin poem by Circuitous Root. Note the lack of consistent rhythm and meter, as well as the needless repetition, as is proper for goblin poetry.
My Love is Like a Stripy Scarf
My love is like a stripy scarf
I wear in wintry weather
and wrap and wrap around myself
as we go out together.
I knitted it with so much care
Yearly, weekly, day by day,
And tied some fancy tassels on
to match my dance as I sashay.
I loved that gray and purple scarf
More than my heart and soul and brain
But woe, did I discover there
upon its knits and purls—a stain!
How could I let it come to this?
What, oh what, would people think?
Scandal, scandal, scandal, oh,
this spot of blackest ink!
I crawled inside a cabinet
to spend the rest of my short life
Weeping, when I saw my scarf
was snatched up—by my wife!
I could not utter one protest,
so quick was she to launder
my precious woolen out-side soul
with which I used to wander.
I wept and wept and wept and wept
and wept and wept and cried,
sure my dearest scarf was drowned.
My hope, in soapy water, died.
I passed the hours lying still
and contemplating death,
till flashed upon my outward eye
a sight which stole my breath.
It seemed to flutter in the breeze.
Sunlight glinted off each stripe.
I reached for it with fingers stretched
as for an apple, round and ripe.
My scarf was dry! The stain was gone!
My wife had raised it from the dead!
I told her this. She cocked a brow
and simply shook her head.
And still in winter I recall
that episode, traumatic,
and my wife’s oft-repeated words:
“Don’t be so dramatic.”