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We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:21 pm
by shireling


Concerning Bilbo…

What would your mother say
If she saw you now? Long away
In Rivendell I sit by your side,
My tears like stars at eventide.
I watched as mighty Elrond Lord
Fights the bane of wraithful sword
Buried in your shoulder.
You were fading fast, and growing colder.

Poor sweet Cousin. In days
Since they brought you here, ways
Have I sought to ease your pain.
Naught is there in my old brain,
But sorrow and despair for you…
Oh, speak to me! I beg you, do!
Nephew you are not to me, but nearer
Than a loving son, and ever dear
Have you become!

How cold and pale and still you lie.
Your servant Sam is sitting by. No cry
Makes he, but determined glares
Toward my way. He stares
As if to say, ‘He loved you more
Than anyone. He put more store
In you than I.
For him, I would gladly die
If death could heal this deadly woe.
Do not doubt me, old Bilbo!’

I see you have your father’s hands
As I stand beside your bed, hands
That still have much to do.
Your mother’s eyes of china blue
Have ne’er seen day in Imladris.
Upon their lids I place a kiss…
You have some strength, Gandalf said.
In this he’s right. No blockhead,
Fool or children’s doll –
You are a Baggins, after all!

Well, me dear, your leave I’m takin’.
And, Sam! You there! Be the slightest wakin’
I’ll want to know! He’s not to be alone,
You hear? If he is, I’ll have a bone
To pick with whoever is that’s left
His side…Nay, I’ll stay – bereft
As I am to hear him breathe.
I’ll stay behind and you may leave. 11/10/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:22 pm
by shireling
The Fool

So, you want to know my part!
Sit you down. My old heart
Still beats for it. Ah, the Ring!
That mission – quest – thing
We cousins traveled. Merry and Frodo…
When was it? When did we go?
It doesn’t matter.
Lest you mistake, no senile patter
Will you hear. I will tell what I recall,
And you judge if the tale be tall.

I was the youngest of us four -
That day when we set out the door
For Rivendell. Sam Gamgee, too.
He thought to come and sought to do
Whate’er he could for his Frodo.
And it was plain, he loved him so…
Merry and I did as well, you see,
But not much help as Sam were we.

Was I...that made the mess,
That led the Nazgul to our nest
At Amon Sol? Yes, ‘tis true.
In Moria, when Sting glowed blue,
Was I who woke the sleeping Ghoul.
In fury Gandalf called me ‘fool’
And him we lost but for a little. Ye know
Of Fangorn? ”Chestnut and willow,
Oak and elm, yew and beech and silver birch” –
In Treebeard’s branches found we a perch
From where to watch the moot. Stones
And rocks from Ent hands thrown, bones
Were crushed and Saruman flown
From his belov’ed Isengard.
All left behind was broke and charred
Like the old wood forest the wizard marred.

My little grandson, soon asleep,
Did not hear my heart’s deep
Sorrow. Boromir of Gondor brave
Fought and died, and could not save
Me and Merry from our plight.
I’ve ne’er forgot that awful sight
As he plucked the arrow in his side.
E’en now my heart breaks how he died.
His steward father, Denethor, soon fell
To madness. And as I watched, gaping hell
In form of pyre, nearly claimed his other child.

We named our first born after him - a mild
Soul, our Faramir – the sire of this baby here
In my old arms. Sleep well, wee dear.
Your Grandpa’s off to sleep’s deep pool -
A Gondor knight, not Gandalf’s fool. 11/05/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:23 pm
by shireling

I, Brandybuck, love to recall those
Days, when Rohan’s lovely gilded Rose
Stood by my side at Pelennor,
One battle in the Ringly War.

T’was she who placed me on her steed.
I was desperate to do some deed
To prove me true. My high-born sire
Feared for me and dismissed my hire
As one to fight by his great side. I
Sorely wept as he passed by;
To be so tested, to be so tried
I could not still my tears or hide.

But youthful knight bending near,
Whispered in my Halfling ear.
“Upon your face I see the throes
Of love for him. And there he goes...
But if your longing heart be true
Beneath my cloak, I’ll carry you.
Such goodly will should ne’er be tried
Or honest tears be forced to hide.
I’ll not betray nor leave behind.
Come, little sir, and Dernhelm find
Our lord upon the warring field.
I will not stray nor will I yield.”

I did not know, then, who it was
That gathered me up to this Cause.
So glad was I, I did not care.
No one saw the long bright hair
That hid beneath the battle helm,
No one thought in all the realm
We two would ride to destiny.
No living man, said prophecy,
Could slay the Fiend. ‘So bold!’
The Devil thought he had us cold,
And laughed with glee. But then,
She stood there, unafraid. No son of men,
Could make such stand. And none were we,
But human maid and Hobbit me.

She did not quail, this kingly daughter
Who rode amid the wanton slaughter,
And faced the faceless Dreadful Lord.
With Shire son and steel-blade sword
She smote his beast, she killed his steed -
She stood alone and in sore need.
I thrust my knife behind his knee -
And down he fell. Though wounded, she
Betwixt the mantle and the crown,
Brought the vicious Villain down!

I, Brandybuck, love to recall those
Days, when Rohan’s lovely gilded Rose
Stood by my side at Pelennor…
I’ve never asked nor wanted more. 11/03/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:24 pm
by shireling
The Star Gem

My heart was in great need, so she
Gave this stone to comfort me.

Though I no longer bear the Ring,
I bear the pain of knife and sting.
Though I no longer make the quest,
I seek in vain for peace and rest.

I asked of Gandalf where to find
A place to heal my wounded mind,
But he was silent. There is no cure.
I miss the Shire heath and moor.
So long away it’s gone from me
That nevermore I’ll ever see
It as it was, so changed am I.
I did expect that I would die,
And never for my home to go.
Thanks to sweet Sam, it was not so.
But all I know is pain and strife,
So woven with them is my life…

My king and Elven queen are far,
The Elfstone and the Evenstar.
Where once was chained the Dark Lord’s trace,
A snow-white crystal takes its place.

It rests now in my maim’ed hand…
In my minds’ eye I see her stand
Before me. And she, most ever kind,
Kissed my brow to soothe my mind.
She placed her hand upon my breast,
And the captive bird within my chest
Was eased. “Here, dear heart. A token
Do I gift to thee. I pray it mend your broken
Will, and give you hope when sore afraid.
When darkness falls, may it give you aid.”

My heart was in great need, so she
Gave this stone to comfort me. 11/01/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:25 pm
by shireling


Pity he wasn’t slain when
Bilbo had the chance. Then
Pity stayed his hand, Gandalf said.
Compassion for the dead,
The waste of lonely years. No sound,
But his endless prattle to the round
Gold mite he got through murder. So
Sad, he was – pathetic really. I didn’t know
Then, indeed no one did. Neither Elves nor
Wizards could see all ends. The door
To the future changes with each act,
And each and every pact
Made, twists the clock and knots the chain…

I stood transfixed on the Mountain, lava rain
Around me. My master stood so dauntless there,
The Ring’s weight shouldered. His dark hair,
Like blacken flames in the Vulcan heat,
Framed his blazing eyes. Straight on his feet,
Bearing a majesty I never thought to see and
Boldly proclaimed, “Here I stand!
I choose not to do this thing!
I claim the right to wear the Ring!”

I’m glad that Gollum was there that day.
I’m glad that no one dared to slay
Him, myself most of all. He played his part.
Now, I don’t think all with blackened heart
And churlish mind deserve such
Compassion. The too much
Kindness shown to wolves dooms the sheep.
But I miss HIM, Rose. My first night of sleep
Without him near
After the many a year
He’s lived with us. You came to know
Why I came to love him so.


Now the Elves will give him care. Comfort take,
Sam. He’d not wish your heart to break…
Come here, sweetheart. The baby’s down
For the night. Now the only sound
I wish to hear
Are your sweet whispers in my ear. 11/14/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:26 pm
by shireling
Daddy Sam

‘Be’ said he, and a world arise,
Of delving Dwarves and Wizards wise,
Of baleful Wraiths and other fell,
Of weakling Men and first-born Elf…
Around the hearth on winter night,
Gamgee children, rapt in light,
Sit as silent as wee mice…
Daddy Sam hath them enticed.

Of power ring in Hobbit hand
That journeyed far upon that land,
To bury in the hottest fire
The wanton gold of kings’ desire…
Around the hearth on winter night,
Gamgee children, rapt in light,
Sit as silent as wee mice…
Daddy Sam hath them enticed...

On the pages of the Westmarch Book
Are writ the deeds of Master Took.
Of Samwise Brave and Merry Bold
Be tales to make the blood run cold…
Around the hearth on winter night,
Gamgee children, rapt in light,
Sit as silent as wee mice…
Daddy Sam hath them enticed. 10/30/03

Birthing Smeagol

You’re placed in my arms after
Laboring the day. Too tired for laughter.
Too exhausted to say I’m glad it’s all over…
Oh you feel heavy, ripe fruit of my lover!

You enter a room but not by the door;
A being of substance you were not before.
You now have a presence that used to be hid,
And I stare down in wonder at this tiny sweet kid.

The years are in shadow; I can’t see ahead –
I’m full rigged with hope in a dinghy of dread.
On the ocean of life, two sailors are we,
And I so wish that you – whatever you be,
Will find the world patient. Please, find the world kind.
I so wish you healthy, and happy of mind…

Sleep now, my baby – just rest you wee head
Whilst I steer a course to your rock-a-bye bed. 01/03/04

Redbook (Children’s) Rhyme

One for the Ring
Two for the Wraith
Three for the Dark Lord -
No one's safe.

Four for the Hobbits
Five for the Trees
Six for the Wizard
Beard in the breeze

Seven for the Ents
Eight for Man
Nine for the fingers
On Frodo’s hand. 11/18/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:27 pm
by shireling
Of Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves and Men

Mintgill’s Heart
(A Legend)

Lilthrien was of Elven-kin,
As fair as the Shire sun.
Beneath the stars, he traveled far.
His heart belonged to none,to none
His heart belonged to none.

Then one fine day he came away
And rested near the water.
There betide the waterside
Stood a pretty Halfling daughter - betide, betide
The waterside - a pretty Halfling daughter.

Mintgill knew that he was true
And freely gave her heart.
But Hobbitland and Elvish clan
Demanded that they part, they part,
Demanded that they part.

They'd gone from here and wandered near
Where dwarves and men did roam.
A love so strong bore them along
As they sought some welcome home, some home,
They sought some welcome home.

But mortal stayed the Hobbit maid
Whilst Elfling lingers on.
The day she died, Lilthrien cried.
His sweet helpmeet was gone, was gone,
His sweet helpmeet was gone.

He carried her in princely fur
To the tempest ocean shore.
And there walked he into the sea
Until they were no more, no more,
Until they were no more.

From the glass-clear sheen of the Shire stream
To the briny, blue-green deep,
As they had met, he repaid the debt
To the love he'd always keep, he'd keep.
To the love he'd always keep.

6/01/03 (additions made 3/23/12)

Lost, Came Beren…

It all began on account of chance
When a mortal stayed to watch a dance.

Lost, came Beren along the water,
And spied the dazzling Elvish daughter
Known to all as Luthien. She
Made the very stars look dim. And he,
The mortal man, did love
This constant maiden far above
Any woman of his kind. None
Was there to match the sun
That shone out her eternal eyes.
He called her name out to the skies,
And she, in her enchanting dance,
Ceased to move. What fateful chance
Befell this maid who loved the man?
She gave to him her heart and hand.
She lost her place among the Elves,
Became as like the man himself
Since she forsook immortal life.
Mortality’s wracked with pain and strife,
Though no regrets she entertained.
His love for her, like showers rained,
Upon the soil of her heart;
They were never thence to be apart.

And it all began on account of chance
When a mortal stayed to watch a dance. 12/29/03

Rohirrim Lament
(on the death of Theodred)

I saw my love go riding
At the break of day.
I saw my love go riding
As daylight passed away.

I saw him in the garden
At the stroke of noon.
I saw him in the garden
Preparing for his doom.

I saw him in the meadow
Upon the stroke of one.
I saw him in the meadow
Till the setting of the sun.

I saw him in the battle
In the bright moonlight.
I saw him in the battle
He did not last the night.

I saw my love brought low,
No healer’s art could save.
I saw my love brought low
In the shelter of the grave.

I saw my love go riding
At the break of day
I saw my love go riding
And then he passed away. 12/02/03

We of the Lordly Manor Halls
(Dwarf Drinking Song)

We of the lordly manor halls
Are daring bold as we wassail!
And all who see us give the cry,
‘O brave and true we roundly hail!’

We shape the gold and shining gems,
We carvers of the flow ‘ring stone!
We dearly love our beer and ale,
And toothsome meats ripe off the bone!

We mine the ore, we wield the axe
And dig the tunnels vast and deep!
We of the lordly manor halls,
We of the kingly mithril keep! 05/12/03

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:34 pm
by shireling
The Snack

One day a hobbit on a stroll,
Was captured by a hungry troll.
“Do I bake or do I roast?
Do I squash him for my toast?
Do I grill or do I fry?”
To hear this made the hobbit cry,

“Please, sir! If you’ll let me go,
You’ll have a wish.” “Ha! I know
Hobbits can’t grant wishes…
Pity, I can’t decide which dishes
You’ll taste best in.” “Please!
Salt burns me, and I sneeze
Whenever pepper’s near.
Just let me hear
Your hearts’ desire!
Spare me from the cooking fire!”

“Now there, there little guy,
I’ll make a wish. Please don’t cry.
Now let me see...
Make me
Tiny, make me sweet,
And I’ll go find another meat
To put into my cooking pot.”
“O thank you, sir, thanks a lot!”

The hobbit closed his little eyes
And waved his hands up to the skies.
There was heard a mighty snap
Like the closing of a trap.
The troll was gone with a boom,
And in its place, a cute mushroom!

The morel gave out with a hiss,
“Hey, you there! What’s with this?”
The Halfling chortled “Whoa, that’s neat!
But I don’t like talking when I eat...” 12/03/03

The Gift of the Hobbits
(with apologies to O'Henry)

It is only at Christmas when all Hobbits say,
That you don't give mathoms to each other that Day.
Now, it needn't be new or cost a whole lot;
It can be whatever - whatever you've got,
But gifted with plenty of love in your heart.
So, gather round, joonies! You ready? To start...

It was just before Yuletide, and all through the Shire
All the Hobbits were gathered, at home, by the fire.
The beer was all brewed, the cakes were all baked
And the chestnuts were bagged and ready to take.
The mash-fed geese and piglets were done,
Decked out with roast apples and stuffed with minced plums.
All the Hobbits were happy, all singing and gay -
That is all the Hobbits - except Merry, that day.

He hadn't a present for Pippin, you see,
And he'd waited too long. Elbow on knee,
He puzzled along, biting the stem of his pipe.
Sighing, he took out his kerchief to wipe
The luster back into the brown polished bowl,
When it hit him...

He ran to the shop - to the Second-Hand Dragon -
And pawned his fine pipe for a tall pewter flagon.
He had it engraved "To Pippin - from Merry.”
And, was he excited? Indeed he was - very!
He dashed back to his hole, his face nice and rosy,
Then he wrapped it all up in The Middle Earth Posy -
(A Hobbit press tattler he happened to have) -
And went to bed satisfied, happy and glad...

That very next morning came a knock at the door,
And sleepy ol' Merry dragged himself 'cross the floor...
"HAPPY YULE, Cousin! So glad you're about!
I was hoping to catch you before you went out…"
"Pip! The sun's still abed! It's a quarter past 3!"
"But, Merry, you'll love this! Come over here! See?"

And, at rest on the palms of the two younger hands,
Was a packet. It was leathered and worn, from lands
"The Longbottom Leaf I gave you that day?
Aw, Pip - I thought it was long smoked away!"
"It was," blushed his cousin. "This is all new.
The pouch is from Isengard – which, of course, you knew.
I've sold my last barrel of Saruman's Grist,
For that pack of tobaccy I hold in my fist...
So go get your pipe! I've got mine here, too!
A fine smoke on Christmas is the first thing we'll do!"

"But, Pippin - I'm sorry. I got you this stein
To fill with your ale when you ran out of wine.
My pipe has been pawned; I don't have another."
"Don't fret yourself, Merry. Come now - don't bother.
I've a spare in my pocket you're welcome to, dear.
Let's sit by the fire and share some Yule cheer!"

And they smoked that whole pack of the Longbottom store,
And they drank from Pip's flagon till there wasn't no more.
Then off to the breakfasts, first one and then two,
And the whole host of dinners that fond Hobbits do.

And like them, I wish you - A Wonderful Yule! 12/21/04

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Thu Sep 30, 2010 11:05 pm
by Candy Kane
Oh, lovely work, Shireling!

I wonder if you would consider posting it in the new story archive? Each part could go in a different chapter, and all the reviews would be with each one.

You've got a real talent there.

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2011 12:39 am
by shireling
I came across this little snippet watching a Lon Chaney Sr. movie yesterday, (he was using a ventriloquist dummy) but can't find the rest of the song on line. So - I made up some more stuff to it.
The part I wrote is in italics :D:

"She was only a butterfly's daughter,
but he was the son of a bee...
Said her kindly bedraggled old mother,
"My darling, don't marry with he!
Oh, he'll promise you honey and clover,
And swear to love you on his knee!
But t'is best you're a butterfly's daughter,
Not the wife of that son of a bee!"

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2011 1:41 pm
by ashbow
Love it.
Here's a little I would like to add.

But she had the wings of an angel
and with them she tempted him so.
Not caring 'bout all the gossip
nor for her poor mother's woe.
They hired pastor grasshopper
down by the old hollow log.
His best man was a dragonfly.
Her maid, a lovely tree frog.
After a certain time had past
they were blessed with little wings.
awkward they fly with a flutter and buzz,
those odd but delightful things.

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2011 2:10 pm
by shireling
:lol: Ash, that is wonderful!!!! I Love It!!!!

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2011 2:17 pm
by shireling
I can hear this being sung by an Irish tenor :).

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Sun Jun 03, 2012 1:44 am
by shireling

Have you seen my Samwise
As from home and hearth you go?
Do you see him in the garden
Making all the roses grow?
Tell him, if you see him, that I am sore alone.
Tell him that I miss him, and that I want him

Have you seen my Pippin?
You'll know him by his laugh.
Hear it sounding in the valley?
Hear it rippling down the path?
Tell him, if you see him, that I am sore alone.
Tell him that I miss him, and that I want him

Have you seen my Merry,
As you go about your day?
Is he still as charming,
As a sunny Shire day?
Tell him, if you see him, that I am sore alone.
Tell him that I miss him, and that I want him

Have you seen my Frodo,
The keeper of my joys?
Have you seen the sweetest,
And fairest of the boys?
Tell him, if you see him, that I am sore alone.
Tell him that I miss him, and that I want him

Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Posted: Mon Sep 10, 2012 9:35 am
by shireling
Ode to Tasha

(a commemoration of the first anniversary of her passing and my first attempt at writing a villanelle.)

I see you forlorn, passing pale.
My lovely one and my heart's pain,
There, dipping low beneath the veil.

For many a year, I watched you rale,
My queen with black and grey-furred mane.
I see you forlorn, passing pale.

Those high-perched ears and twitching tail
Will nevermore o'er my sight reign,
There, dipping low beneath the veil.

Nevermore the feathered toy to sail
To velvet paws - my loss, your gain.
I see you forlorn, passing pale.

There are those who called you 'whale'
Because your weight, not once, did wane,
There, dipping low beneath the veil.

O Tashie! Your love kept me hale!
Your playful mewing drove me sane!
I see you forlorn, passing pale.
There, dipping low beneath the veil.