I am told that Bilbo, before his
Adventures began, would walk, the
Shire to seek the queen of the fungi.
To search was the compulsion.
Driven by taste, for the mysterious
Fruit of the forest floor.
When asked, he would say,
To savour the wild delight has nothing to compare,
To the humble taste of a spud, or sprout,
Just an ecstasy of unparalleled delight.
Knowing you have found the woody nutty treasure.
Of the queen of the forest floor.
Tis the biggest adventure a hobbit needs
To test his might against the mighty mushroom.
But then he had yet to meet ...
A wizard and a dwarf.
© Nick Strong 2014
The Fellowship of the Ring.
"I feel thin — sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread."
"I need a holiday — a very long holiday — and I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to!"
An unexpected Journey.
"I'm going on an adventure."
After all, I do live in the shire. :)
The voice of silk,
The eye of the devil,
Breather of fire,
Killer of many.
Smaug the dragon,
Sitting in his gold,
The figure of fear,
In the legends of old.
One little hobbit,
Confronts the dragon,
The king on his throne.
Is there really a Middle Earth where Hobbits live or a Land called Oz
Are there really munchkins or a Yellow Brick Road
Is there really a Lion, a Witch and a Wardrobe
do Harry, Hermonie or Ron live at Hogwarts
Or is it a Land of make-believe
Keep the fire bright as stars
singe their hairy feet clean
a Hobbit is bigger then a rabbit
and three times as tasty
The best kind are near Mirk Wood
they are plump juicy and yummy
and as you put them to flame
they inadvertently call for mummy
Oh what joy on dark trollish evenings
to share a morsel or two with friends
eat those Baggins squirming kind
saving their chubby legs to the end
Come toast a hobbit with me
they do as well as chicken
see how many your tummy
will if you try hard to fit in
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
I know that had fate not intervened.
You would be here enjoying this with me.
Standing in line with your family and friends.
Waiting for the Hobbit to begin.
I bet you got an eagle eye view.
Watched them create magic.
Did you walk around New Zealand,
Traveling the path of the Fellowship?
Did you stand in that theater,
Laughing along with us?
Enjoying the adventure,
As if you never left us.
And when I finally see you.
And I wrap you in a hug.
Will you laugh and tell me,
Who was your favorite Dwarf?
How do we do it?
How many quests?
How many fellowships
formed and broken,
going on to separate ways?
Doesn’t the heart rub a bit
sore after each parting?
Are we fools thinking
our’s the most arduous journey,
a long trek into Mordor,
to scale the heart of Doom?
Are we a bit of Merry weather
and Pippin riding on a shoulder
of an ancient forest?
Do we fight the Nazgul?
Are we foot soldiers
once more going into the breach?
We go truth be told
with no magic, no ring,
just cheerful Hobbits with secondsies,
snacks between full meal,
brief taste between breakfast,
and lunch, filling ourselves with joy.
We always wait for some
semblance of change,
rotating them in and out
of their ivory towers
in fixed elections,
not meant for the masses,
this thing we crave,
this desire to clutch
it with our wrtetched hands,
working them to the bone,
feeding their technological machines
under this ruthless guise,
the advancement of humankind.
How long will we wait,
working twenty-four seven,
some three jobs
while we wait pilgrims,
wait for the happy-Hobbits
to reach Isengard?
That might take forever...
We the People,
haven't got that much time left...