Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
There in the dark and silent woods,
deep within the secret heart of forest,
he runs free, icon of our dreamlike moods,
master of snow and raging torrents.
Through the mists of half caught glimpses
something moves, mischief afoot,
he reigns supreme, the lord of princes,
there upon the edge of reason, mighty Bigfoot.
Line count: 8
Rhymed abab
For Express It In Eight, 10.29.22
Prompt: Write a poem about a woodland animal.
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