The Shire Brave
This is a hobbit tale,
One of many, don't you know,
And the hero of said ballad,
Was far from stout and slow.
His name was Bounder Isenbras,
The first Shiriff, you should know.
He patrolled the entire Shire, he did,
Defending it from foe.
One day across the Brandywine,
Some brigands so did cross,
And they laughed and cheered, drank and jeered,
In name of their cruel boss.
But our good hero Isenbras,
Did journey to their haunt,
And endured their nasty heckling,
And then gave them a taunt:
"If you be men, then face me here,
Aye, face me in the field,
For cowards shall shout but hide away,
And in face of force, they yield."
The brigands ran out in force,
And ran straight into the blade
Of our Shiriff hero's strong main-hand
Who drove back the vicious raid.
The bandit chief was furious
When he heard his men were dead.
He leapt up from his chiefly chair:
"I'll take that Hobbit's head!"
The villainous cur saddled up,
And rode into the Shire,
So obsessed with his only goal,
The sights he did not admire.
Our shiriff was awaiting,
Outside good Michel Delving Town,
And declared that the battle would
Be for the mayoral crown.
The bitter foes swept and slashed,
And their blades caught and held,
But hark! the bandit fell and tripped
And from the floor was felled.
Slish-slash! Snicker-snack!
The blade in hand went so,
It's keen edge caught it's target
And eventually brought down it's foe.
The wielder of the blade said thus:
"Twas a hard battle indeed -
But roll out the food, bring on the ale,
And by God, where is my mead!"
A/N: It's my take on a combination of LOTR and Lewis Carroll's poetry style. It was mainly written as something cheerful and fun to do, but it also applies itself as some proof my account isn't dead and as a kinship short-story for my kin of LOTR Online. For more details, contact me. The original work is on my deviantArt account, under the profile e-herowindmaster.
I may write a more realistic history of the origins of the Shiriff, but I wouldn't guarantee it.