A Night With Tolkein
by WSJ
Tribune to JRR Tolkein! Love you dude!
Disclaimer: See the last poem if you're really desperate to know.
()()()()()
I found him in the library,
In the row marked 'Fiction-T',
He grinned and kneeled down,
Tilting the book so I could see.
I congradulated him on his good taste,
But I didn't recognise him.
I asked which one was his favorite,
And he replied simply 'This one.'
So we moved over to a couple chairs
More comfortable then the floor,
And we sat and discussed our favorite author
For maybe an hour, or more.
My dad finally appeared to pick me up,
I didn't want to go.
My new friend told me he'd always be here,
So I could come again, and now I should go.
So I lift with my dad,
Who kept looking at me as if I had sprouted nose hair.
Finally he got the nerve to ask,
'Who were you talking to? There was no one there.'
I looked at him a moment,
Blinked, then ran back inside.
Sitting where he had sat was nothing
But a battered copy of 'Return of the King' that was impossible to hide.
I was scared to think I'd seen a ghost,
As I walked back to the car.
But it made me somehow happy to know
That Tolkein lived in my heart.
(And apparently haunted my library.)
()()()()()
^_^ Squee! I like it! I actually had a dream like this once, I was in the library and saw Tolkein's ghost. Any way...
Dedicated to Melilot Millstone, who has rewarded me with glowing reviews for every single one of these chapters and has had the good graces and enormus curtacy to put this on her 'Favorite Stories' list. Thank you so much!
by WSJ
Tribune to JRR Tolkein! Love you dude!
Disclaimer: See the last poem if you're really desperate to know.
()()()()()
I found him in the library,
In the row marked 'Fiction-T',
He grinned and kneeled down,
Tilting the book so I could see.
I congradulated him on his good taste,
But I didn't recognise him.
I asked which one was his favorite,
And he replied simply 'This one.'
So we moved over to a couple chairs
More comfortable then the floor,
And we sat and discussed our favorite author
For maybe an hour, or more.
My dad finally appeared to pick me up,
I didn't want to go.
My new friend told me he'd always be here,
So I could come again, and now I should go.
So I lift with my dad,
Who kept looking at me as if I had sprouted nose hair.
Finally he got the nerve to ask,
'Who were you talking to? There was no one there.'
I looked at him a moment,
Blinked, then ran back inside.
Sitting where he had sat was nothing
But a battered copy of 'Return of the King' that was impossible to hide.
I was scared to think I'd seen a ghost,
As I walked back to the car.
But it made me somehow happy to know
That Tolkein lived in my heart.
(And apparently haunted my library.)
()()()()()
^_^ Squee! I like it! I actually had a dream like this once, I was in the library and saw Tolkein's ghost. Any way...
Dedicated to Melilot Millstone, who has rewarded me with glowing reviews for every single one of these chapters and has had the good graces and enormus curtacy to put this on her 'Favorite Stories' list. Thank you so much!