Not so long ago in a land very near,
Lived a troll without joy, His future unclear.

His house was quite dark His soul dull and grey,
His garden was bare, no green life would stay.

This troll was so sad it made the birds weep,
He shivered alone and cold in his sleep.

Then one day to his most bewildered surprise,
In the garden, a small bud greeted his eyes.

He marveled and wondered, confused and unsure,
But the bud kept on growing, into flower most pure.

He could not believe the fortune he had,
Each glance that he made on the plant made him glad.

The blossom unfurled, and to the troll's great delight,
A beautiful flower greeted his sight.

Each petal was perfect, each leaf deep, dark green.
The troll soon believed it had beauty unseen!

He tended the bloom, he gave it his care,
This flower became his, he would not share.

One day he was out, and spied his dear friend,
A botanist! The troll's flow'r he could tend!

He brought his friend back to his garden, so bare,
And when they arrived, the man only stared.

He sniffed with great pride, stuck his nose in the air,
"This isn't a flower, nothing so fair!"

He explained to the troll that the blossom so pure,
Was truly a weed, in that family for sure.

The troll looked so sad, but did not disagree,
And he crushed the flow'r into dust with nary a plea.

(it works much better as a story)

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Ero, in the year 416 AF.