Drabbles for Lord of the Rings

Each of these is a drabble (a piece of exactly 100 words), but written in poetry form, and each one attempts to sum up a particular section or chapter from Lord of the Rings.

Prologue – The Fellowship of The Ring

1. Concerning Hobbits

Nobody knows
Why a hobbit grows,
Not a hair on his face
But lots on his toes.

Their homes can be found,
In holes in the ground,
And the doors, like their bellies,
Are broad, fat and round.

Quick of wit, hand and eye,
Of men still quite shy,
They can vanish like magic,
If one should pass by.

No shoes on their feet,
six times daily they eat,
Had a plague and a battle,
But not one defeat.

They are filled up with mirth,
And love well-tilled earth,
But they seldom stray far
From the land of their birth.

2. Concerning Pipeweed

I'd like to bring to your attention
A quite astonishing hobbit invention
It's an art that defies convention
That could stop you drawing your old age pension

Bree's the home of smoking's inception
Although The Shire embraced it with affection
But Pipe-weed grows with a different complexion
Much further South, in Gondor's direction.

It's agreed without dissension
Longbottom Leaf releases tension.
It's one of the best, but here mention
Southern Star and Old Toby are in contention.

Dwarves enjoy pipeweed without exception,
Rangers too smoke it during reflection,
Sweet-smelling flowers is the Gondorian perception,
But Wizards imbibe it to perfection!

3. Of the Ordering of the Shire

Just to make it clear,
As such things require,
Carefully stated here,
Is the Ordering of the Shire.

Four Farthings in the middle,
Then Marches, East and West,
The names became a riddle,
As the families progressed.

Buckland's on the borders,
Across the Brandywine,
Nobody gives orders,
The Rules keep folk in line.

12 Shirriffs at the very most,
The Bounders beat the bounds,
The Messengers take the post
To the four farthings and surrounds.

Most Tooks live in Tookland,
The chief Took is the Thain
And each 7 years a Mayor must stand,
Until the King should come again.

4. Of the Finding of the Ring

13 dwarves and a hobbit,
Set out upon a brave quest,
To find a dragon and rob it,
At Gandalf the Grey's behest.

But Bilbo Baggins got lost alone,
In the dark and lonely mine,
And met with Gollum, all skin and bone,
By chance, or maybe design.

That's where Bilbo found the ring,
Although he claimed he won it,
Gandalf did not believe a thing,
For how could he have done it?

The ring helped with each endeavour,
With it on, Bilbo vanished from sight,
But, "Thief! Baggins! We hates it forever!"
Were the words Gollum screamed that night!

Then one chapter from each book title – I hope eventually to do it all!

A Conspiracy Unmasked
from Fellowship of the Ring - Chapter 5, Book I

Greeted by Merry at Buckleberry ferry,
Sinister riders making us wary,
Onward we follow, to Crickhollow,
Spirits high, our fears to bury.

Too scared to laugh, we take the path,
Finding a homely supper and bath,
Then tell a tale, to turn us pale,
Sorting the wheat from the chaff.

We've got eyes and our spies,
We've heard some truths and some lies
About the Ring and everything,
Isn't that a big surprise!

You can't pretend, to a friend,
No matter where your path should wend,
You're not alone or on your own,
We're with you, Frodo, to the end!

The Uruk-hai
from The Two Towers - Chapter 3, Book III

Tromping and stomping, faster than breath,
Crashing and thrashing, darker than death,
With speed that's as quick as a hobbit's heartbeat,
They haul the prize home with trampling feet.
Battered and bruised the smallest are taken,
The Quest split asunder, the hobbits forsaken,
But the chasers are chased as the ranks are broken,
And Hope is left in a small Elven token.
Thundering, sundering the Rohirrim ride,
Racing and chasing, with valiant pride,
Cornered and crushed the Uruk-hai fall,
Secretly, slowly the little ones crawl,
Creeping and peeping, with hardly a sound,
Until looming and glooming – the trees close around.

The Scouring of the Shire
from Return of the King - Chapter 8, Book VI

In Fourteen Nineteen, November the Third,
The Battle of Bywater occurred,
Four travellers returned from distant lands,
To find their home in foreign hands.

Rohan's horn made the earth shake,
Sounding, Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake!
The hobbits arose and began to fight,
Putting the evil men to flight.

They'd stolen their food, baccy and beer,
Felled the trees, filled folk with fear,
Then fighting with sticks, stones and knives,
Nineteen brave hobbits lost their lives.

Retribution was swift and just,
Wizard and Worm lay dead in the dust,
So now toast as heroes in every inn,
Captains Meriadoc and Peregrin!