The Neverending Limerick Story 7

Taken from the ongoing Word Games section of the Storyteller's Circle

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They thought that their plan was the best
to go to Fanghorn forest
And still they both travelled
but their plan did unravel
as they continued to veer toward the west.

More southward they wanted to go,
but a river east to west did flow.
This obstacle in their way
caused them to then stay
and how to cross it they'd not know.

By now it was nearing nightfall
as the nightingale started its call
It chirped and it whistled
in a large patch of thistle
as the hobbits pondered it all.

 A raft made of thistles was out,
And the bird far too small to be stout,
The water was deep,
Blanky-blank, bleepy-bleep,
So they nearly were turned back about.

But what wonders might a river bring?
What lurked there besides bird a-sing?
Perhaps there was help,
Or at least floating kelp,
To aid them in crossing the thing.

they steadily floated along
down river since they weren't that strong
They still tried to cross
this raft of thistle and moss
but soon they knew something was wrong.

for a distant noise came to their ears
of thunder, which fed all their fears
not knowing, but dreading
just where they were heading
til at last a misty fog appeared.

"What's that fog, over there, what's that mist?"
How the water did foam, how it hissed!
They were picking up speed,
And it seemed they might need
To be waving a "HELP!" in their fists.

They floated down towards the unknown
uncertain just where they would go
but the waves started rolling
from rapids, extolling
the help of the Vala Ulmo.

The ride it got kind of tough
bumping and grinding so rough
that they started to shout
to anyone about
their troubles approaching the bluff.

As the mist had cleared after all
a waterborne fear was to call
it soon came about
a water fall, no doubt
as the hobbits tried their fall to stall.

"Aiiii-eeeeek!" from thier throats came the cry,
As over foaming brink they did fly,
But they of doom were cured,
By a large flying bird,
An on eagle-back went to the sky!

Now normally eagles don't save
mortals, be they high king or knave,
But this eagle knew
a halfling or two
from the battle at Mordor's black gate.

For he remembered in the past just a spell
some halflings, now he could tell
for he was one of them
saved Frodo and Sam when
Orodruin, it's lava it expelled.

He had hoped it would one of them be,
That now squirmed in his talons, so wee -
But not Frodo nor Sam
Did he see as he planned,
But poor Pippin and frightened Merr-y.

The two of them trembled and shook
To be flown without even sky-hooks;
They were grateful and blest
Solid ground - or the nest
They were now in, Brandybuck and Took.

Above the lands of Middle-earth
Aloft with talons 'round their girth
They fainted from fear
of heights my dear
For Hobbits live in holes under earth.

Awoken upon an eyrie
They thanked their new friend eagerly
But how to get down
back onto the ground
Was a challenge they saw quite clearly.

"If we jump, we'll fall down like a stone-y,
Though they swear they won't eat us like coney -
I don't know if their trust
Past their hunger will thrust,
Til we look like nice loaves of bologna."

"I agree, Pip," said frightened Merry,
"In this nest we should no more tarry -
But how to get to the flats
Without turning to splats
Is beyond me. We need a long stair-y!"

The Hobbits began to climb down
From atop of the mountain's large crown
They hadn't gone long
Before something went wrong
His weskit, it seems, had unwound.

It caught on a root up so high
that it's end they could barely descry
They decided to pull
In hopes that the wool
would soon free itself, by and by.

They tugged and they pulled did the twain,
But it was no avail and in vain,
The unravelling wool
Made their climbing down lull,
And added much stress to their strains!

Merry's weskit went looser by threads -
"Hey Pip, maybe we aren't so dead!
We can use it like rope,
To descend, so I hope -
And we'll reach the ground safely instead!"

And so on again they descended,
This weskit was not to be mended,
Going further on down
from atop of the crown
of the hill was what they intended.

In time the plain far below
Was a short distance only to go
"Good thing," said ol' Merry
"It was getting quite scary
a climbin' down mountains of snow."

When the last bit of weskit did stop,
The ground was only a short drop,
Though long it did seem,
And with fear they did teem
As their hearts went ker-flippity flop.

Ka-bump! came down Merry at last,
And encouraged Pip still holding fast,
"You can let go -
Though the falling's not slow,
It'll end with a bump, not a splat!"

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