Ogre
His voice like thunder, booming out his threats,
the stamping ogre towered, broad and square;
the trembling, sobbing woman prayed and begged -
I saw no pity in the monster's glare...
and hid. A knight, afraid of fighting fiends!
Ashamed, I rushed at him, without a care.
The giant, nostrils flared, took off at speed,
returning to his castle in the air.
written 25th March for Constance's O words contest
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2023
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