Tales be Told

The clouds were black

And heavy with rain

The day that Rumpelstiltskin came.

He came for my child,

My first-born,

He claimed that I'd been fairly warned.

He gave me a riddle,

I'd guess his name.

Otherwise, the child he'd gain.

He leaned over my child

As I searched my brain

Hoping t'was not all in vain.

I remembered.

The tale my mother had told,

A little man who spun straw to gold.

He and that man of "fairy tales"

Must be the same.

I knew Rumpelstiltskin was his name.

I'd won the riddle

fair and square

Still all of you should beware

Of a tiny man

His games unfair.

But only because of the "myths" I'd heard

Did I win that jest

With just one word.

Rumplestiltskin