NaPoWriMo – Day Eight: Troll Men

In the borderlands are wooden glens

where troll men stump on hollow legs,

and wait for the pretty faced prince

to come with sword and horse

in need of trophies to convince


some foreign king of his cause.


He’ll trade his sack of skulls

for a wife he’s not yet met

but been told of in fairy tales,

in tavern songs

and children’s rhymes.

He knows her hair is gold,

her lips ruby, eyes sapphire

tongue silent

to go with a quiet mind.


But he’ll do as princes do

when winning princess from their father’s.

He’ll forget to show kindness

to the widow on the road

for she is ugly, dirty, worthless,

and the witch will curse his blindness

and bless his wife not yet met

with a tongue and lips

not made of gems.


In the end he’ll find a queen,

new upon her father’s throne

without the need of troll remains

or princes bearing their bones.

She’ll return him to the forest glens

where troll men stump on hollow legs

and suck the marrow from little men

whose swords lie broken, fractured, bent

at the feet of a woman without gems

whose tongue passed final judgement.


It’s Day Eight for NaPoWrimo which means we are now a quarter of the way through the month. Today’s prompt is to “write a poem where mysterious and magical things occur”. I was trying to channel Christina Rossetti with this piece somewhat¬† as her poem Goblin Market seemed to fit the prompt perfectly. NaPoWriMo’s prompt also fitted in quite nicely with today’s Daily Post Prompt: Twart

Please let me know what you think and if you like the recording included at the end. I’m still not certain about recording my poems and I’m not a fan of how my voice sounds but it’s good practice for preforming the poems.






Spell Spun

The recipe called for three teaspoons of shimmer,

from unshed tears.

Half a fractured heart, cored and peeled.

A handful of sweat

scraped from the hollow of a good man’s throat,

and the promise of forever,

bottled and preserved in lies,

steeped for sixteen years,

and cracked open with a whisper of ice.


For Today’s Daily Prompt: Shimmer

I was genuinely struggling for a response to today’s daily prompt so I’m afraid you’ve got his nonsense.

One Last Hope

Grendal, Chief Clansman of the Ruling High Council For Witches, Warlocks, and the magical sorts, did not appreciate being woken before dawn. His bones complained about the cold and his knees refused to cooperate as he traversed the endless staircases and corridors that led from his rooms to the Grand Hall, where the rest of the council was supposedly waiting.

‘Where is everyone?’ Looking around the room he could see four others, only one of which had bothered to change from their night clothes. Looking at the swaying man Grendal reconsidered the assumption and decided that he’d not been to bed in the first place.

‘Well,’ Grendal demanded, ‘where are the rest of the sods?’

‘Succumb?’ said one of the others. Elmer Throttle¬†sat hunched in his seat, the folds of his dressing gown tightly roped around his midriff and a single fluffy slipper poking out beneath the hem. ‘He believed himself to be a Warawhump, whatever that is. He won’t come out of the cook’s wine cellar and appears to have crafted himself some form of warren.’

‘Bugger,’ swore Grendal. ‘I thought Maximus said he had this newfangled spell-work under control?’

‘He did,’ agreed Elmer. ‘Clearly he was wrong and we’re no closer to finding a solution. I think we might have to face facts and-‘

‘No,’ Grendal snapped. ‘Under no cirumstances whatsoever are we doing that.’

‘We might have to.’

‘I’d rather succumb.’

‘Would you really?’ smirked Elmer. ‘Well you might before the day is out, we all might and then where will we be?’

Grendal ground his teeth together. ‘Fine, summon her. Let’s see what she can make of it all, if she answers that is?’

‘Oh she’ll answer alright?’

Grendal turned towards the new voice, Eliise’s figure materialising from the shadows around the edges of the room. ‘You know I can’t resist a party Grendal.’

Eliise’s smile was wide and her eyes danced with a fire that hadn’t burnt in Grendal for almost fifty years.

‘Of course,’ he growled. ‘You called her here already. Typical. Fine, see what use it is, we’ll all be mad by the end of it, mark my words.’

‘Now, now darling.’ Eliise closed the distance between them and laid a hand against Grendal cheek. ‘You really need to have more faith. After all, how many times have I saved your skin?’


Prompt: ‘New mind-altering spells and intoxicating potions are causing headaches for the Ruling High Council’ – Promptuarium

A really quick piece for tonight’s Friday free-write. If you want to check out some of my other short stories and flash fiction pieces you can see them here. Or go to the home page and check out some of my favourites that are listed there.

This week I also wrote a piece about how main characters can have an impact on the write and how they change as a writer grows which you can read here. This is in response to the Daily Post’s Discovery Challenge: Superhero and a post I’m really proud of so I hope you’ll check it out.

Hope you all have a fantastic Friday.