Tuesday, 10 September 2013

A Warden Afraid of Splinters

A Warden of noble descent
In the Old Forest he would dwell,
With beard brown and javelin bent
This strange fear we could not foretell:

To some of us we fear the dark,
Insect bites or a mighty height.
But to our brave Friend of the Mark
A splinter can be quite the fright.

Spear and javelin he would wield
Strengthening his agility,
Let’s not forget the wooden shield
Unfathomable ability!

One morning carving his new spear
He heard the charging of a boar,
The tusks our warden did not fear
But in agony he did roar!

The pig missed his Warden prey
Slipping on the wet morning grass,
Poor Celebrimbus’ delay
Caused a splinter into his ass.

“Oh you vile pig! Away with you!”
He cried, throwing his javelin.
“Leave me be, good riddance! Now shoo!”
And off the boar went travelling.

“Oh what am I to do with this?
A damn splinter in my butt cheek!
I’m in a terrible crisis…
This will hurt my butt for a week!”

And so he wore a thick, grey cloak
With gear to evade a splinter,
But still his fear of Elm and Oak
Will haunt him ‘til next winter!

You will now be known as Man-at-Arms Celebrimbus Splinterbottom, Warden of AnnĂºminas to those you meet in your travels.

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