Bacon, sausages and tomatoes,
Mushroom pieces and fried potatos.

Hobbits love such simple fare,
Cooked just right, with plenty to spare.

Piled high on china plates,
The kind of food Ol' Gollum hates.

But Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Sam,
Ask for more and say "thank ye' Mam".

The best food in the village of Bree,
Served by Rosie, at the Prancing Pony!!

Always listening, never singing,
Tempers bristling, wisdom bringing.

Darkling corners, pipeweed smoking,
Never often laughing, joking.

Shattered, weapon, solemn marker,
Manner lately, sterner, darker,

Hidden purpose, splendor showing,
Telling nothing, simply knowing.

Fastest walker, swiftest rider,
Stranger, mystery, comrade, Strider.

Secret getaway, you can get there in a flash,
Bucklebury Ferry--follow me.

Take the ferry at night, and the ferryman's charge is free,
Bucklebury Ferry--follow me.

Float down the river, count the shooting stars,
Which log's an alligator, which one is just a stick?
Then we'll fire up Old Toby 'til we haven't got a care,
Bucklebury Ferry--follow me.

Secret hiding place, you can sneak away at night,
Bucklebury Ferry--follow me.

Take a flask of ale, and some bread and bit of cheese,
Bucklebury Ferry--follow me.

Dangle fingertips in the water cool and dark,
Touch a sunburnt nose with a drop of liquid fire,
Fire up your imagination, 'til it takes you from the Shire,
Bucklebury Ferry--follow me.

Ol' Fatty Lumpkin, plump as a pumpkin.
Along the trail, thru the woods.
Leading hobbits in bright hoods.
Of no old barrow-wight scared,
Charges them, teeth bared.
Go away you ghosts old,
Back where lands are cold.
Trouble poor hobbits, never more.
My master Tom, will even the score!

Flickering images of you.
The outer physical reality of you portraying the inner emotional reality of a caricature written and rewritten by some writer, who knows how many times.
Not the true reality of you.
Does anyone? Will anyone see the true image of you?
The inner emotional reality of you?
Not the part you play to the world but, the man in the corner of a small work shop bearing his soul through the physical reality of art and the written word.
Even looking at your soul laying there naked could we ever understand that to be you?

"Kill for it!
We must gets it, our preciousss,
We needs it!"

That's what He says, shoving for hate...
Torture, needing it, not having it
Such cold, dark, pain, so alone
Hate it!
And there...nice master...he has it.
And he also has the other -
cruel to me, but not like my Other
my hateful Gollum.
His other, his Sam...so caring for him,
comforting, holding.
No comfort for poor Smeagol -
No warmth, just cold fishes.
Nice master, maybe...
maybe he cares for poor Smeagol.
Dare to reach out, brush his knee...
So nice, the contact, not alone.
"An old, starved, pitiable thing"
but reaching out...maybe...

His other awakes.
"Sneaking!" he says.
Yes, yes,
Gollum the Sneak.

Ancient lands play across our sight and we are lost
In your vision of ancient and mythic times.
Your art, presented in sound and light, captivates us
And for a while, we are not ourselves.

It is magic, this spell you have cast.
It is a celebration that leaves us wanting more.
From the soft words of the beginning
To the heroic and inspired ending, we are your canvas.

In creating, you inspire us to create.
In believing, you make us believers.
In dreaming, you enrich our dreams.
In touching us, we no longer fear to touch others.

So, we who have been enriched and uplifted thank you.
With words and songs, watercolor and oil, ink and crayon
We strive in our way to touch what you have shown as real.
Middle Earth lives and we shall never again be the same.

To the work of Peter Jackson:

The accolades come to pass,
But the road goes ever on.
The fellowship is built to last,
And welcomed as the dawn.

A new day, the film's great birth
The book has graced the screen.
Beloved, comes our middle earth,
A place we all have been.

Characters we love so dear,
And keep within our hearts.
Brought to life, kept sincere,
Victors from the start.

The fellowship, our cherished gift,
Is given life anew.
Thank you for inspired vision,
To it we will hold true.

Fishhh for Gollum, fishhh for strength,
Fishhh of any size or length,
Silver fishhhes, soft and sweet,
Always Gollum's favorite meat.

Fishhh in moonlight, fishhh at night,
Rapid fingers stop their fight,
Into the mouth, though wiggling still,
Tasssty fishhh, too good to kill.

Fishhh all juicy, fishhh to taste,
Never lets thems go to waste.
Slavering, slobbering over fishhh,
Always Gollum's favorite dish.

Ode to Legolas

A fine blond one on a quest has gone
In fellowship of nine gone forth onward
Chosen as a symbol of the Elven kind
Arrows, bow, silent slippers feet be found shorn

From your limbs flow stealth and gentle grace-
Your aim does prove deadly.
Heart so faithful, true and vallian warrior!
Never turn from bravery!

Deeply touched, you feel the danger
A sence of sorrow; expression of care
Your face does set my heart alight
And your voice to me--fresh morning air.

Blond caresses your shoulders your face
Temples adorned with small braids tight.
One tall thin male is enough for me
But alas! we see a fading light!

Stayed true to his path, Legolas hath stayed
He has fought quite well as any
But wartime behind he chooses anew
To leave Middle Earth--sail far away

My song will end, for him will die
Its forces no further past his sea
Though stron was sung for the one I love
He untimely died before my eyes could see.

---

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