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 Annúminas to those you meet in your travels.