Found was I in works
of the old English,
Though today you’ll find me if that is truly your wish.
I do not age or wither quite as humans might,
But I am not exactly a ferocious sight.
I spin tales to pick your brain,
Wit and humour flow though my metaphoric veins,
I can be exquisite or rather plain,
And often you’ll think of me as merely a pain.
It seems my ancestry may go back to Ancient Greece,
The time of great myths like the Golden Fleece,
For a sphinx was I used to slay,
And for Baggins’ life I was used to pay,
In works of a more recent day.
To finish, I possess no earthly form,
And to find me today is not exactly the norm.
I speak but I cannot walk or fly,
So can you answer; what am I?
Though today you’ll find me if that is truly your wish.
I do not age or wither quite as humans might,
But I am not exactly a ferocious sight.
I spin tales to pick your brain,
Wit and humour flow though my metaphoric veins,
I can be exquisite or rather plain,
And often you’ll think of me as merely a pain.
It seems my ancestry may go back to Ancient Greece,
The time of great myths like the Golden Fleece,
For a sphinx was I used to slay,
And for Baggins’ life I was used to pay,
In works of a more recent day.
To finish, I possess no earthly form,
And to find me today is not exactly the norm.
I speak but I cannot walk or fly,
So can you answer; what am I?
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