Toll of the Tariffs

Sharp, rhythmic woodland fable where Eagle the Loud’s soaring tariffs choke every trade in Glimmergrove. A wise Owl, steadfast Goose, and chatty Squirrel unite to challenge injustice and demand fair play.

In the Heart of Glimmergrove

In the heart of the Glimmergrove, where mushrooms make beds,

Lived Eagle the Loud with his crown on his head.

“Only I can fix it—just ask me!” he’d cry,

From his treetop throne, scraping clouds in the sky.

Eagle's Decree

He’d squawk from his hollow atop Barkleback Hill,“

I’ll fix all the trading with pine‑cone‑slick skill!

We’ll tax every toadstool and thistle that’s traded—

And soon all the creatures will feel quite persuaded!”

The Rising Taxes

Over many moon‑turns the levies held sway,Prices crept higher with each passing day.

Rustles and rumbles slid under log bridges,Carried by beetles and bounced off the ridges.

“Eagle’s plan,” sighed a fox from his ferny front door,“

Seems to pad up his nest just a bit more…”

For hidden within his thick needle‑stacked bed,

Were acorn‑bank scrolls marked in juicy leaf‑red.

He’d crafted new bark‑funds called “Made in Our Glen,”

Where the moss‑coin would multiply ten upon ten!

The Cost of Trade

Now every time tariffs would rise with a shout,

Eagle’s own moss‑pouch would fatten, no doubt.

Each hedgehog and hare paid a coin at the gate,

Which Eagle then stamped with his seal of the state.

Down a bark‑hidden chute from the toll to his vault,

Their hard‑earned moss‑money grew rich by default.

With each climbing tariff the costs soared sky‑high—

Fewer nuts in each nest, thinner sap jars ran dry.

For every critter taxed for the goods that they sold,

Eagle’s bark‑bucks grew deeper, leaf‑green and bold.

The Call for Change

Jay‑Dee the Parrot‑Crow flapped through the bramble,

Squawking out slogans in thick leafy ramble.

“Tariffs are twig‑tough! Free trade is for slugs!”

He echoed and stumbled—then tripped over bugs.

The Buzzard Flock circled the high Maple Spire,

Muttering softly, too scared to inquire.

“We’re watching,” they cooed, from the branches above,

“Our nests need his favor—just memo and shove.”

Justice and Inquiry

In the Hollow of Justice, past Echofern Pond,

Lived Judge Talon the Owl, with wise‑feathered bond.

He blinked at the scrolls with a curious frown,

While Clerk Pip brought acorns and notes from the town.

“The Law sees all,” the Owl gave a hoot,“

But acting takes guts, not just rooty repute.”

Pip squeaked, “If our rules are just windy tree‑songs,

Then how will we know what is right and what’s wrong?”

The Whispers of the Forest

Whimsy the Squirrel, who danced branch to branch,

Squeaked out the news from her pine‑cone‑stuffed ranch.

“You wouldn’t believe what I found in a thicket—

Eagle’s making bark‑bucks off his own ticket!”

Maple the Goose, in her misty reed flat,

Soothed her sleek feathers and adjusted her hat.

“I trade fair, I fly fair,” she honked with a puff,“

But this feathered fiddling smells more than just gruff.”

While Tao the Tiger lay still on a stone,

Silent and striped in the Shadewood Zone.

He traded in spices with jungles afar,

Tariffs tripled the price of each cinnamon jar.

The Lesson of Power

“The glade may sway,” he purred with a grin,“

But Tigers don’t pounce till the game’s theirs to win.”

Seasons had turned since the first tariff call,

Yet whispers kept rising from nests big and small.

So children, remember this Glimmergrove song:

When someone grows power, it might just go wrong.

If they tax every beetle, and moss‑root and bell,

Ask if they’re growing their own purse as well.

For justice takes owls, and Pip‑like persistence,

And squirrels who chatter with charming insistence.

Truth Prevails

Though the loud may crow and the greedy may pout—

In the end, the soft truths still find their way out.

For power may boom, and slogans may shout—

But truth has a whisper that still wins the bout.