The Tale of Lorgil Hill

by Jones and Lambert

[Below are pages 6 through 10 of an ongoing tale. For pages 1 through 5, go back!]

Before descending back into dream-time,

the Lorgil sat, to relax and recline.

Lying with soft, downy grass on its back,

the Lorgil saw stars in a sea of black.



The Lorgil lapsed into languorous rest,

satisfied the day was used to its best.

Overtaken by a sweetly calm sleep,

the Lorgil's breath was serene, slow, and deep.



Gently waking into the welcome world,

the Lorgil's foliage cover unfurled.

Dawn-light dew-drops alighting on its face,

the Lorgil stirred in the serenest space.



Daybreak demanded diligent duty,

for copious care conserved the beauty.

Daily labor made a nice place to live —

duly tended, the hill did always give.



Lorgil Hill was a utopian bliss —

the universe lavished its loving kiss

on everything, leaving nothing amiss.

