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The verses beckon through the tavern's door,
Enjoy its firelit warmth and grab an ale;
The poems tell of heroes, blood and gore,
They offer dragon's hoard and banshee's wail;
Behold the creeping dread that stalks the gloom!
You bitter cynics, come and prep your smirks!
But gentler readers, please don't flee the room,
For other poems offer humour's quirks;
They speak of magic hijinks and kebabs,
And sirens' schemes that make the pirates spew;
One poem shows a golem braiding carbs;
A healing potion gets a bad review!
So heed this poem's cunning sonnet hook,
And venture through the verses; read this book!
Enjoy its firelit warmth and grab an ale;
The poems tell of heroes, blood and gore,
They offer dragon's hoard and banshee's wail;
Behold the creeping dread that stalks the gloom!
You bitter cynics, come and prep your smirks!
But gentler readers, please don't flee the room,
For other poems offer humour's quirks;
They speak of magic hijinks and kebabs,
And sirens' schemes that make the pirates spew;
One poem shows a golem braiding carbs;
A healing potion gets a bad review!
So heed this poem's cunning sonnet hook,
And venture through the verses; read this book!
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