Literature
The Vigil
Upon the hill, on guard, alone
The griffin crouches on a stone.
He keeps his vigil, nights and days
And not a thing escapes his gaze.
I climb on up to see his glories,
Bring him treats, and tell him stories.
He is polite, accepts my praise,
But keeps his watch, on guard, he stays.
At night you look up and can see
His glowing eyes that ceaselessly
Go back and forth across our town
In search of things that call him down.
No thief dares skulk among our homes
For endlessly the griffin roams
And checks our doors and barns and locks
Then goes back to his couch of rocks.
We feast, or revel, he looks on
And guards until all guests are gone.
We ea