| My friends and family don't envy me, they think I'm foolish and bold. I have the most dangerous job in the world, well that's what I've been told. |  |
Over the mountain and through the woods,
way down where the river rolls,
I pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
Pecky beak that clicks and clacks,
eggcelerator turned to the max.
Metal drumsticks thump and grind,
while eggs plop out it's 'fowl' behind.
Missing my daily delivery
is a risk I dare not take.
Those fearsome beasts are best occupied
when they don't have bellyache.
It was once believed Trolls only ate kids
but that's not completely true.
If I give them fresh eggs all day long
they won't bother me or you.
I stick steadfastly to my route
in sunshine, rain and cold.
I have the most dangerous job in the world,
well that's what I've been told.
When I hear the roar of angry tums
or the clink of empty bowls,
I pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
If regular meals of eggs are missed
the outcome will be dire.
It won't take much for Trolls to see red
and their patience to expire.
Can you imagine what would happen
if stomachs were left empty?
There'd be roaming clans of cranky Trolls
on the hunt for you and me!
Gnarling gnashers and cut throat claws
are terrible to behold.
I have the most dangerous job in the world,
well that's what I've been told.
Swooping and dodging big angry mouths
and eyes that burn like coals,
I pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
Pecky beak that clicks and clacks,
eggcelerator turned to the max.
Metal drumsticks thump and grind,
while eggs plop out it's 'fowl' behind.
Eggs are an amazing invention,
it's no wonder Trolls are keen.
Mixed with big dollops of mayonnaise,
poached, coddled or Florentine.
Whether hard or soft-boiled with soldiers,
scrambled, baked or fried,
I must keep giving eggs to Trolls
that's a fact you can't deny.
I'll carry on through thick and thin,
till I'm wizened, grey and old.
I have the most dangerous job in the world,
well that's what I've been told.
There's nothing else I'd rather do,
this is my ultimate goal,
to pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
Poem ©2013 Meagan Munroe
Illustration ©2013 John Shelley
way down where the river rolls,
I pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
Pecky beak that clicks and clacks,
eggcelerator turned to the max.
Metal drumsticks thump and grind,
while eggs plop out it's 'fowl' behind.
Missing my daily delivery
is a risk I dare not take.
Those fearsome beasts are best occupied
when they don't have bellyache.
It was once believed Trolls only ate kids
but that's not completely true.
If I give them fresh eggs all day long
they won't bother me or you.
I stick steadfastly to my route
in sunshine, rain and cold.
I have the most dangerous job in the world,
well that's what I've been told.
When I hear the roar of angry tums
or the clink of empty bowls,
I pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
If regular meals of eggs are missed
the outcome will be dire.
It won't take much for Trolls to see red
and their patience to expire.
Can you imagine what would happen
if stomachs were left empty?
There'd be roaming clans of cranky Trolls
on the hunt for you and me!
Gnarling gnashers and cut throat claws
are terrible to behold.
I have the most dangerous job in the world,
well that's what I've been told.
Swooping and dodging big angry mouths
and eyes that burn like coals,
I pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
Pecky beak that clicks and clacks,
eggcelerator turned to the max.
Metal drumsticks thump and grind,
while eggs plop out it's 'fowl' behind.
Eggs are an amazing invention,
it's no wonder Trolls are keen.
Mixed with big dollops of mayonnaise,
poached, coddled or Florentine.
Whether hard or soft-boiled with soldiers,
scrambled, baked or fried,
I must keep giving eggs to Trolls
that's a fact you can't deny.
I'll carry on through thick and thin,
till I'm wizened, grey and old.
I have the most dangerous job in the world,
well that's what I've been told.
There's nothing else I'd rather do,
this is my ultimate goal,
to pilot my flying chicken tank
delivering eggs to Trolls.
Poem ©2013 Meagan Munroe
Illustration ©2013 John Shelley
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