Ancient Giants Myth Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Giants walk in tales of old,
Fomorians fierce, with stories told.
Red-haired giants, tall and grand,
Footprints left upon the land.

Maybe storms, a fearsome sight,
Turned to giants in the night.
Or bones of beasts, so big and strong,
Felt like giants, where they'd gone wrong.

Lovelock Cave, a whispered name,
Of skeletons, sparking flame.
But stories twist, and truth gets lost,
The giant's height, at what a cost?

No giant bones, the scientists say,
Just ancient folk, another way.
Hoaxes played, for fame or fun,
Giant pictures, battles won.

Perhaps a memory, blurred and dim,
Of other kin, with sturdier limb.
Or just a man, grown extra tall,
Creating legends, for us all.

So giants fade, a whispered dream,
Not real creatures, as they seem.
But tales survive, in hearts and minds,
A mix of wonder, history finds.