Gargoyle
by Kenton Adler
With evening falling dark and hard,
I chanced a glance into the yard.
Without so much as a, “Beg your pardon,”
a Gargoyle landed in my garden.
You might wonder how I’d know
a Gargoyle from a Diddley-Bow.
What features would the thing possess --
distinguishing him from other guests?
As it happens, I have knowledge
from a certain majyk college.
Along with prestidigitation,
they teach creature identification.
His heavy brow, deep-set eyes,
blacksmith arms, and tree-trunk-thighs,
his batwing ears, leering grin,
red, forked tongue, and grey-green skin,
and claw-like fingers bent and splayed
from gnarled hands were giveaways.
As much as all those other things,
I couldn’t miss his outstretched wings.
I don’t know what he had in mind.
He seemed content to pass the time
watching me inside my home,
perhaps as HE composed a poem.
Now you may think me just a bit
bereft of sense and slight of wit,
but I insist, my will is hardened:
there WAS a Gargoyle in my garden.
I chanced a glance into the yard.
Without so much as a, “Beg your pardon,”
a Gargoyle landed in my garden.
You might wonder how I’d know
a Gargoyle from a Diddley-Bow.
What features would the thing possess --
distinguishing him from other guests?
As it happens, I have knowledge
from a certain majyk college.
Along with prestidigitation,
they teach creature identification.
His heavy brow, deep-set eyes,
blacksmith arms, and tree-trunk-thighs,
his batwing ears, leering grin,
red, forked tongue, and grey-green skin,
and claw-like fingers bent and splayed
from gnarled hands were giveaways.
As much as all those other things,
I couldn’t miss his outstretched wings.
I don’t know what he had in mind.
He seemed content to pass the time
watching me inside my home,
perhaps as HE composed a poem.
Now you may think me just a bit
bereft of sense and slight of wit,
but I insist, my will is hardened:
there WAS a Gargoyle in my garden.