The Nine Little Goblins
27 October 2007
Vol. 7, No. 3
poetry, classic, rhyme, light verse
They all climbed up on a high board fence—
Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes—
Nine little Goblins that had no sense,
And couldn't tell coppers from cold mince pies;
And they all climbed up on the fence, and sat—
And I asked them what they were staring at.