In a vast and darkened wood, there stood a mighty tree
It was home to Poddle, Doddle and Toddle, the goblin brothers three
They spent their days playing away, not a single care in the world
They’d run and dance and spin and play until little Toddle hurled
Poddle was the eldest goblin, the smartest of the lot
He loved to read, he loved to learn there was nothing that he forgot
But interrupt him at your peril, that goblin would glare and scowl
He would bite and claw, scratch and kick and make an awful howl.
Doddle was the second goblin, a fierce and angry sprite
He’d throw rocks and insults, tantrums and mud and fling tables with all his might
But beneath the grubby face and all the shin kicks and the profanity
Was a goblin child who loved and cared for everyone in his family.
Toddle was the last goblin and youngest of them all
Just a fuzzball with ears and covered in snot, he couldn’t even crawl
He’d eat and burp, throw up and cry and anything he holds he gnaws
But worst of all was the awful smell when Toddle had filled his drawers.
Now goblins may be vicious and grubby, they may be naughty and loud
But they are also inquisitive, kind and bright, they’re lively, funny and proud
So should you find yourself in the woods and something gives you the shudders
Remember it’s probably just three little souls, the Terrible Goblin Brothers.