The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings

With Apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien

Megan Murphy

There once was a hobbit named Frodo,
The son of another named Drogo.
His precious; a ring,
A peculiar thing,
Which he got from his uncle Bilbo.

The ring once belonged to Lord Sauron,
His Dark Throne; to rule he had sat on
A quite evil git,
He feared losing it,
Then Alliance of Men cried "Lay on!"

And Isildur cut off the ring,
But upon his own hand put that thing.
Didn't kill Sauron,
This known by no one.
So about this 'last battle' Elves sing.

By dark ways through Mid' Earth it came round,
That this ring by poor Sméagol was found.
Fears it exploited,
It was quite suited,
To turn Sméagol to Gollum, it sounds.

Then on an adventure went Bilbo,
To a mountain that Dwarves of old know.
A dragon named Smaug,
Who looked like a frog,
Lonely Mountain had taken for show.

While on that adventure this hobbit,
In a cave with Gollum he found it,
A riddle game won,
Though technic'ly done,
Through escape from Goblins he kept it.

He'd not known the One Ring's true power,
'Twas forged in the Dark Lord's tall tower.
Rule them and find them,
In darkness bind them.
'Tis something to fear, make men cower.

He thought it was just a mere trinket,
And in his front pocket to leave it.
His precious it was,
'Till gave to a coz'
"Dear Frodo, in safe places keep it."

Then Bilbo went of to Imlandris,
With Elrond Halfelven to eat feasts.
And left dear Frodo,
That son of Drogo,
His home and ring 'in loco heiris.'

When at last a few years had gone by,
The Nazghul on black horses did ride.
They came to the Shire,
Their eyes burning fire,
But missed Frodo, who'd fled just in time.

Frodo Baggins, a bachelor of means,
Samwise Gamgee, a gard'ner of greens,
Went to Crickhollow,
Nazghul did follow,
So they fled with a couple of 'Tweens.

Meriadoc Brandybuck was one,
With his friend Peregrine Took did run.
With Frodo and Sam,
Together they ran,
Through the Forest, which wasn't much fun.

In the forest, used for a pillow,
Were the roots of the old man Willow.
Tom Bombadil came,
At their crys of pain;
The hobbits the willow had swallowed.

In Tom's forest abode they did dwell,
But for how long they never could tell.
In Barrow-Wight graves,
They found shiny blades,
'Ere they all left that enchanted dell.

They were to have met Gandalf in Bree,
Though the dangers there none could foresee.
But he wasn't there;
Imprisoned upstairs
Of Sarumon's tall tower retreat.

To the Inn, in that village of Bree,
Came Frodo and his hobbits; three.
They met with Strider,
Nazghulish riders.
From the Inn they were forcéd to flee.

To the watch tow'r at old Amon Sul
Ran the five chased by nine black Nazghul.
Dear Frodo's shoulder,
Piercéd, grows colder,
By the Witch-King D'Angmar's blade Morgul.

To Imlandris' ford they did make.
Diff'rent paths they were forcéd to take.
Our Frodo, or course,
On Glorfindel's horse,
By the quickest way there did he break.

When Frodo could just ford the river,
The Nazghuls behind made him shiver.
He drew out his sword,
He challenged their lord,
And bade them to stand and deliver.

That effort did cost Frodo much,
For remember he'd felt Morgul's touch.
He dropp'd to the ground,
And heard not a sound,
As the cold hand of Death did he clutch.

But our hero was saved, it would seem,
And awoke from a sleep without dream.
Discovered himself
With Elrond the Elf,
In Imlandris, but knew not the means.

His friends Frodo was happy to see,
Even Gandalf, who'd not been in Bree.
But happiest though,
Was dear old Bilbo.
For his nephew, but also the ring.

To Imlandris did Boromir ride
Out of Gondor, bearing black tides.
His dreams had been dark,
Except for a spark
That he'd dreamt in the West 'twould reside.

There was also an Elf from Mirkwood,
Bearing tidings that were not quite good.
For Legolas said,
A few Elves were dead,
And the Gollum escaped to the woods.

A contingent of Dwarves from the mount,
Also came to deliver account;
Their fool-hardy jaunt,
To Durin's old haunt,
And so Gimli was there, short and stout.

These three and our heroes did gather,
At a council Elrond did muster.
Though oft' enemies
They all could foresee,
Middle Earth was faced with great danger.

Well, dear Frodo was ordered to bring,
And to give up the Dark Lord's One Ring.
So Boromir thought
'Tis a gift that's brought,
Thus an argument broke o'er the thing.

'Twas decided that someone must take
The ring into Mordor to unmake.
Cast into the fire,
The One Ring so dire,
It would melt and there'd be no mistake.

But the council could not choose just whom
They would send to their ultimate doom.
So Frodo said "I,"
And Sam's hidden cry;
"If you go, then I'm coming with you!"

And then Merry and Pippin did fight,
To be joined in the fellowship's plight.
For Legolas too,
And Gimli, it's true,
Also joined, to the hobbits' delight.

So the Strider did offer his sword,
'Twas revealed he was truly a Lord
Of Gondor, the King,
With Barahir's ring,
In a way he made Frodo his ward.

Thus did Boromir, last one of all,
Though he thought that the group would all fall,
Said "Gondor'll see done,
Away with the One,"
And he heeded the Fellowship's call.

But Gandalf, who'd, joined in at the start,
Knew someday their ways would all part.
He sensed his own doom,
The Fellowship, too.
For they all felt death near in their hearts.

So Elrond called them the nine Walkers,
And warned them of Nazghulish stalkers.
They prepared to leave,
Their hearts on their sleeves,
And said "Bye," for they weren't big talkers.

As the group headed out one fall day,
Our dear Frodo was heard then to say;
"Will you please tell me?
I'm in a quandary…
I can lead, but I know not the way."

So they left behind Rivendell's gate,
Walking onwards towards uncertain fate.
Nothing much happened,
Morale got dampened,
And the path through the woods went on straight.