I wrote this in 2010 and forgot about it. I don't think I've posted it before. Enjoy...
Weregelf
Weregelf is a gargoyle, a thousand summers old;
Perching on cathedral walls he’s awful to behold.
Though not as crisp as once he was (perhaps a little weathered)
He gazes down on all below the stonework where he’s tethered.
When it rains his open lips pour forth a watery stream
And gurgle bubbled laughter over drenched pedestrian screams.
He’ll eat a pigeon, now and then, for vengeance feels so sweet
When centuries of guano pile up deeply round your feet.
His view, it’s true, has changed a lot since first he took his perch,
of what was once a field of green and woods of virgin birch—
Now a concrete jungle, filled with cars, is all he sees
And all the walls are streaked with stains from where he sits and pees.