The Fortuneteller

On silent grey days when the sun desires to hide,
Much wisdom can be found near the rocks at low tide.
For there rests a sage both ancient and sly,
Who waits for young travelers and fishermen to pass by.
Each of his legs has a pale green tone,
His eyes have only mischief to lone.
Where he has come from no wise man can tell,
But many a sea farer have fallen to his spell.
With the gaze of a Gypsy he stares deep into his ball,
To reveal tales, fortunes and knowledge for all.
But most of his stories do not have an end,
He simply winks and quickly returns to the fen.
Here is where each traveler is trapped,
Each story is a hook, a lure, a trap.
For all who visit him do soon return,
For more stories and fortunes their heart endlessly yearn.