A little hob gobby stood by a sign
I'm a green goblin
Learned and wise
Bring me your poems
To criticise
He smiled and put his glasses on
Don't know if he liked it
I didn't stay long

Pay a farthing, earn a groat
You'll be a winner if I like what you wrote
He read one line and said go away
Unless you want me to spoil your day
I carried on, tears in my eyes
Tears of laughter, undone were his flies

If you can spare a poem or three
I would be eternally grateful to thee
It's put to good use
I am no liar
Too old to cut wood
I need fuel for the fire

Voice of an angel through purified air
How can I pay you for beauty so rare?
I cannot take payment for what I don't see
Take it good sir, to you it is free

A little tired, dragging my heels
Fed up with bargaining, bartering deals
I found a hollow of moss soft and deep
Laid down my head, surrendered to sleep