Pippin
You may be clumsy and petite,
But so are all with hobbit feet.
So I can all but hug you dead
If not for the curls atop your head.
You laugh enough to cheer the moon
When Merry's company is soon.
But you must learn to quell desire,
Especially 'round Gandalf's fire.
And if you would put down your ale
--For it does make your judgement fail!--
Then I could send you to your room
For stealing Maggot's dear mushroom.
The way you constantly must nap
Is quite enough to make one snap.
And why must you insist upon
A second breakfast after dawn.
That's not to say you haven't had
Your share of scares, though none so bad
As when you looked into that ball
And glimpsed the greatest evil of all.
Those curiously pointy ears
Pin back each time you face your fears.
The screech of riders black as jet
Is not so easy to forget.
I must admit that your escape
From fearsome orcs did make me gape.
For one so young and light of heart,
That deed was your adulthood's start.
You are no baggage, little friend.
Your courage guides you till the end.
Oh, you have grown much, after all,
While staying nearly four feet tall.