Trees...er, I mean Wizard

I think that I shall ne'er hold dear,
A wizard who's not Mithrandir.

A wizard cloaked and garbed in grey
with fireworks bright he comes this day;

A wizard not afraid to dance,
With Hobbits he does gaily dance;

A wizard bold with heart steadfast,
A friendship guaranteed to last.

Within whose heart these small folk rest
With friend like he are truly blessed.

Not good enough this poem I fear,
To honor our friend Mithrandir.

apologies to Joyce Kilmer

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