Here I sit on my high flet,
Where all can see, I'm not dead yet.
Sipping some wine and eating my lembas
Watching all that happens on Caradhras.
Such tales of wonder, bravery and woe,
Reach me in Lorien, from whence I don't go.
News of my demise, somewhat premature,
Spread by so many, so hard to adjure.
Oh well. Such is the life of a fictional elf.
Now, just a few words with this Peter Jackson,
I'd have for myself.
Just wondering, exactly, how fast can he run?
Archery practice, with him, might be fun... >:-