No real line number per verse. It was written for a friend of mine in memory of her having a tooth pulled out. It was crooked and we called it her Snagle Tooth.

The Snagle beast prowls,

The Wibber marsh grounds,

Where the crumpled roots,

And knarled eye’s watch,

Biller bats creep,

Through branches and leaves,

Flapping and screeching and waking…

The Snagle beast’s mother.

With the opening of her blood-red eyes,

The Wibber marsh falls silent.

The crumpled roots and knarled eye’s hide,

And the Biller bats fall silent,

And the Snagle beats feet fall silent to.

He’s been a bad boy,

That Snagle beast.

He crept from his mother,

While she breathed violet dreams,

Of whispered lullaby trees,

And tresses of golden sunrise,

And Biller bat soup (with croutons),

And maybe if he’d asked before hand,

He wouldn’t be such a bad, bad boy,

But he didn’t and she’d worried.

“Where are you,

Oh my joyous babe?

Come hither to my cries!”

But he doesn’t move or run or make a sound,

For fear of the thrashing he’d receive.

And when the second call arises,

He flees the marsh with all dear speed.

And that was his greatest blunder,

For when he fell clear of the Wibber marsh trees,

The knights in the field gave cries of dread,

“It’s the Snagle beast, oh woe is us!

He plots danger for our maidens in despair,

Let off his head and be us glad,

And let demon beast of the marsh be dead!”

And so they took up their arms,

Of iron and steel,

And mounted horses with eyes of fire,

And rode towards the Snagle beast,

Who without his mother cried,

And off let his head and the beast of the Wibber marsh was dead.

And the mother never saw her son,

And the Biller bats did cry,

Along with the crumpled roots and knarled eyes,

For the mother had lost her son that had strayed,

She was as alone as a Penny-fin fish in the sea.

Be this a warning to any wandering babe,

Stay close to your mother,

Else it be your last blunder.