The Neverending Limerick Story 6

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

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Pippin was not a small bit bemused,
But he donned travel clothing and trews -
He knew Merry's habit
Of adventure (to grab it)
Would soon show what romping to choose.

Off they went, Pip and Merry with Hob,
Not a glance at forgotton watch fob,
Packing great stores,
Abandoning chores,
With cheer they were right on the job.

But adventures were just Merry's thing
Since that quest, mission with that ol' ring.
If Merry was chipper
Why, so would be Pip-per
And, being hobbits, they all started to sing.

The song that they sang was quite silly
with many a "dolly" and "dilly."
So singing they went
to help an old ent
To find what was lost willy-nilly.

As dusk came there descended a gloom
And they dreamed of bright fires and warm rooms
As their tummies they rumbled
The hobbits they grumbled
Till Pippin suddenly noticed some 'shrooms!

At mealtime no Hobbit can resist
the call of mushrooms in their midst
They so quickly go down
their throats I ask how
they taste them more than just a bit.

Hob led them back to the spot
Where last the entwife had shot.
They picked up a trail,
But to no avail:
For it seemed to be tied in a knot!

"It appears she lost her direction,"
Said Hob with a wistful inflection,
"Should I hazard a guess,
I'd say she'd progress
To the nearest object of her affection."

So they plotted out a direct course,
As well as they knew, to the source
Of the most excellent trees
She'd be likely to sieze
While they sang until they were hoarse!

 And all of the land surely knows
Where the tallest of all the trees grows -
The hobbits knew sure
That there'd be no cure
For an entwife a-swooned to her toes

For the mallorns of Lorien vast
They remembered from not that far past
Were tall and were stately
And still blooming lately,
For bait, they'd be the best cast.

 But Lorien's a ways away
Not a journey for just one day
Still Merry and Pip
Went off on the trip
But Hob, he decided to stay

So now just two hobbits alone
Try to find the entwives on their own
They've not counted the cost
and so, when they're lost
They'll wish Middle Earth had cell phones!

Cheesy last line, I realize.
For it I must apologize.
My mind's out of whack
And while I'm on this tack
I just hope my ship won't capsize!

Cheesy lines are okay now and then,
Late at night it's the bow that we bend;
Straight our shots in the day,
But at night we do stray,
As fatigue all our wittiness rends.

They shouldered their packs, Pip and Merry,
But wondered if first they should tarry;
If mallorn was the need
P'raps first they should heed
That new Party Tree, so close and not scary.

"And besides," said Merry with a snap,
"We could borrow old Frodo's good map!
It might speed up our trip,
In the long run, good Pip,
And we'll lay our first Shire Entwife-trap!"

Merry needn't have worried his head,
'Specially before breaking bread!
The Mallorn was scented,
And entwife, contented,
Decided to seek it instead.

But an entwife is fickle and picky,
And before they could set a trap gimmiky,
She'd changed her mind:
Sweet fruit to find,
Anticipating branchy hands sticky.

For nearby was a sweet apple grove:
A deliciously gold treasure trove.
Its scent came on the breeze,
made her weak in the knees,
So off to where it beckoned she hove.

A grand ol' adventure was beckoning,
The year '59 (by Shire Reckoning),
So off they all went,
without paying the rent,
to raptuous applause and some heckling.

Caught in a pinch of a sort
they tried finding entwives for sport
oh no, not to kill
but of having their fill
of apples and big mugs of port.

For nothing goes down better than
a fine port, say Hobbits or Man,
'less lager you drink
or stout me doth think
but all lead to napping again.

 And port, aged wines or an ale
All seem to a-wither and pale
When compared to a raft
Of good old Ent-draught -
Or so we've been told in a tale.

But where would they find any draught
So their curls would grow and would waft?
Thus they took up their mugs,
And some pipeweed in plugs,
To set off seeking tree-drinks, tho' daft.

To seek out ent draughts for their brain
Would time better spent on the plain
Of Eriador
Heading south by the shore,
Til Rohan approacheth again

And then by the roads known so well
The hobbits made way to a well
that, though not ent-draught
Sweetly it did waft
They drank long enjoying the smell

So they drank 'til they both had their fill,
And (almost) they did dry up that rill!
Not much left but a seep,
'bout a quarter inch deep.
How they sloshed as they walked up the hill!

"Oh, I'm am so full I could burst!"
Moaned Merry, though Pippin moaned first,
"If we drink one more drop,
I fear we might pop,
Or our buttons fly off at the worst."

Thus the two of them waddled uphill,
Singing on about far too much swill,
And their song was soon heard,
For around went the word
That the well had been drunk unto nil.

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