Gentle Gardener

There once was a young hobbit (Not to be confused with a rabbit) And so gentle was he That the cause he would not be Of harm to any living creature Neither walker nor creeper.

In fact our hobbit did so Love these living things That daily he would tend His master's garden wings That the new things might grow And the broken things mend.

This master too he loved For him the dirt he shoved. He would let no harm befall His master at all. But though in trying himself he hurt Harm was in the making he could not avert.

The master he went to destroy a Ring At a firey Mountain, such a terrible thing. Followed his master this hobbit so loyal That he should be counted among the royal. Elves and dwarves and wizards he met Facing east, the sun at his back did set.

Attempted the Man the Ring to take And the master's sorrow it did awake For leave he must his dearest friends Now each his own path wends. But followed him still our hobbit brave In hopes that his master he might save.

Through dark and desert lands they walked And though they were lonely seldom they talked. Steadily faded his poor dear master Each day, faster and faster- Only of his burden could he now think And our hobbit could catch scarcely a wink.

At long last at the Mountain they did arrive, And the method of the end neither could contrive. The slimy withered creature did bite off the Ring Then toppling over did fall with the thing. And so the master was known as Nine-fingered, His heart in that land ever after lingered.

Amidst the carnage from their bonds they were freed, As for their rescue, the Eagles filled that need. Still by his master's side, Our hobbit, he cried Of love, he knew none deeper In loyalty and love, he was no sleeper.

The master went on past the Elven Isle And the servant remained for a while, But in time to the Realm too went he, Together the two were meant to be.

- Pippinsm