"Ever On": A song by our December Bard Laureate, Meneldor
Though leaves fade
and obscure the trail,
Though snow falls
and buries the path:
Still the road
goes ever on,
the road goes ever on.
Seasons change
and time marches on.
Friends precede
and families pass:
Still the road
goes ever on,
the road goes ever on.
My time comes
to follow that road,
Walking slow
down the unknown path,
after friends
who went on before:
This we know
that we'll meet again,
as we share the road
that goes ever on and on.
Listen to the song
The Feast
by
The Gréy Elf
"With all speed, we must seek him," said wizened old Gand,
"He will help us, I am sure of it. Safe will be his land!
We need to find refuge to escape further menaces.
Let us muster all our strength to reach his far premises!"
"Who?" the hobbit asked, "who would be 'he'?"
Then the dwarves joined in posing questions ten and three.
" 'He' is Beorn!" said Gandalf, "A bare-skinned bear!
One of an ancient race from the mountains over there.
He is a mercurial being unlike other Middle-earth men:
A skin-changer who can take the form of a bear and reverse back again!
He is stronger than fierce and fiercer than strong,
But he will give us food and shelter if we do not ask wrong."
Then Gandalf bent down to look each dwarf square in the face:
"You must mind your Ps and Qs to be welcome at his place!
Of his temper I'd advise all of you to beware.
Listen closely, just for once; you must beware of this bear!"
"We're so empty," said they, "we need meat and strong ale!
If we must eat or be eaten, then how can we fail?
Anything, twice, for a hearty meal we will do,
Even bow all as one to give thanks to his shoes!"
"Do not mention roast meat!" said Gandalf, "not in his lands nor lodge, no!
To do so could make him our dangerous foe!
Lowly creatures he protects, especially his own.
Let no words pass your lips of being served flesh and bone!"
So they tramped and they trudged over many long leagues,
Dusty boots and foots oft stumbling with fatigue,
Crossing meadows and hillocks and brambly ravines
Till along came a place quite unlike any they'd seen.
They halted and they squinted. Were their tired eyes playing some trick?
Before them jumbo honeybees bobbed over an ambrosial picnic
of sweet clover fields growing in a quilt of patches blue and white.
Radiant bee-song tickled their ears, hypnotic hums infused with the hot
sunlight.
"What remarkable bees!" exclaimed Bilbo all amazed.
"This is Beorn's homeland!" said Gandalf. "We've no time for delays!
To linger much longer could worsen our plight.
We must be far from these pastures before the fall of night!"
So they wandered with wonder along a rough-hewn road
Till their path gave way to a great wooded abode.
A grove of oak trees stood there so straight and so high
Bilbo pictured their leaves grazing the arch of the sky!
Then a hedge rose huge before them; its black thorns forbade any passage.
"We can't turn back!" cried the dwarves. "This is misfortune most savage!"
Then the wizard directed their notice to an aged wooden gate --
"Oh...." said they. "Time to eat! Bless our beards, we hope we're not late!"
Gandalf said "Bilbo and I will make our first greetings.
You must wait here and keep an ear for my tweetings."
The old gate creaked open, through it they passed
And Bilbo thought Just a mouthful of bread will be all that I ask!
Very soon they were met by a pair of alabaster mares
Who regarded each of them closely with a curious stare.
Then, nickering, they shook their long, daisy-decked manes
And turned right about to gallop away down the lane.
"They've gone to announce us," said Gandalf, ever-wise.
"To Beorn they'll nay 'Prepare for a surprise!'"
Steadily they marched on, listening to birdsong on breezings,
Inhaling the heady scent of fresh-cut hay most appeasing.
All around them, too, tall wildflowers fanned their perfume:
Honeysuckles, clumps of giant buttercups and milk thistles in bloom.
A colony of thatched hives then came into view,
Skeps keeping a treasure of a molten gold hue;
Home to buzzing alchemists who extract and blend
The sun-warmed essence and mellowed sugars from the blossoms they tend.
Bilbo and Gandalf rounded a bend and knew then they'd arrived
For before them sat a great, makeshift house at the end of the drive.
At first glance, it looked like a rambling woodpile yet was more than it seemed
Of logs stacked up high with green moss hanging from its beams.
But what seized their attention and made Bilbo's heart thump
was a very large man. With an ax. By a stump!
His shoulders were burly, broad enough to carry a yoke
And his legs pillars of muscle -- they looked as strong as the oaks!
From out of the depths of a gnarled beard dark and shaggy,
Growled a bearish voice. It was deep. It was craggy.
"And who may you be?" he asked as they drew near.
"State your business clearly on why you are here."
"My name is Gandalf the Grey and this small hobbit, Bilbo Baggins.
We've been forced from our way and lost our four-legged wagons!
Goblins and wargs fell upon our company in a journey most dire.
We beg leave just to rest here a short while by your fire."
"A company?" Beorn asked, studying Bilbo with brows so severe,
It was all the poor hobbit could do not to shrink smaller in fear!
Then Beorn threw down his ax with a sharp thud on the stump
Right by Bilbo's elbow! How far he back-jumped!
He said "I do not like goblins, wargs or their ilk.
Your must tell me your tale. Come inside for warm milk."
To a low veranda they were lead and plunked down in their seats.
Gandalf unraveled their tale while Bilbo dangled his feets.
Now and then, the wizard trilled a whistle
Prompting a dwarf to appear -- and most fleet!
Thorin led Balin and Dwalin
Dori, Nori and Ori came after
Then Gloin was dwarf seven
Followed by Bifur and Bofur
Making Oin dwarf ten
Here Fili, here Kili
Then Bombur showed up, all willy nilly!
Their roll call was over. They bowed twenty-four times altogether.
"I believe you've come far," Beorn announced. "You appear very weathered.
You are welcome under my roof. Here, you may eat well and find rest."
Fearsome though he was, Beorn was also kind and generous.
Delighted, Bilbo smiled wide and relieved Gandalf sighed
While Thorin inclined his crown-less head in consent;
Bofur tossed his winged hat in the air,
Causing Ori to cheer for gone cares
Leaving Dwalin to glower quite affably;
A big tear splashed upon Dori's cheek
Nori belched once (well, he was weak)
And Bombur's belly gurgled and growled with impatience;
"Let's go!" shouted eager Gloin,
"Better use the spade, brother" said Oin
As Bifur tied his unbraided beard behind him;
Fili and Kili exulted with bold laughter, neither abashed nor nervous
And Balin said -- finally -- "Thank you, kind sir! We are most humbly
at your service."
Beorn clapped his great paws and two brown hounds who weren't there before,
With nudging and nosing, herded his guests inside from outdoors.
Beorn's home was cave-like, a place built of secrets and shadows,
Darkness hung from high eaves like the black frocks of crows.
They saw moon-shaped windows here and there admitting dusky daylight
As they walked through halls warmed by crocks of beeswax ignite.
An archway opened then to a broad dining room
Where many lit torches threw back the close gloom.
Then small dogs lead each of them to their place at an enormous oak slab
To await their supper. A meal. FOOD. They were each too famished to gab!
Beorn strode in with two ponies and a trio of hounds in his wake
to seat himself at his table of a most rugged make.
He barked brokenly then in a strange tongue of beasts
And his creatures understood what he said: bring in the FEAST!
Wooly sheep trotted forth lead by a spiral-horned ram,
Balancing laden trays on their stout backs, linens draped a white lamb;
Covered baskets swung from the jaws of six spotted rovers,
Ponies pushed barrels forward -- their insides sloshed rolling over!
The dwarves sat on their hands, eyes darting from dishes to host
Who laughed at their manners, saying "Which one of you can eat the most?"
At once, they tucked in, filling their cavernous insides
With all the seconds, thirds and fourths Beorn's feast could provide:
Plates crowded with sandwiches spread with rich nectar cream!
Mead enough to flow down their throats as if from a stream!
Cold buttermilk, too, passed round in deep carven bowls,
Pots of fresh butter perched atop a platter of brown-golden loaves.
They thought themselves served with no more in store,
When plates and jugs a-plenty arrived from out a side door --
And they ate as much as before!
Acorn flour biscuits with berries hidden inside, what a treat!
Spears of roasted walnuts! Hot buns shaped like oak leaves!
Last came cups of frothy milk afloat with cubes of honeycomb
That left one hobbit's bare lip covered with a mustache of white foam!
The bottomless bowls of Beorn, holding comfort and care,
Proved their earthy power to restore wasting souls from despair.
Dishes were cleared and a peaceful lull settled in.
The party filled their pipes waiting for their host's stories to begin.
Dwarf tales were heard too in the swelling voice of song.
A groggy hobbit collapsed into slumber before very long....
But dreams fetched him away to another drowsy scene
Of large bruins and small cubs and every sized bear in between
Gathering under trees of acorns and a far misty moon
Where they joined in a circle, dancing to some unheard tune.
They shambled on two legs in slow heavy-pawed plods
As if sleep moved their motions, their shaggy heads drooping with nods.
One black bear looked up; its midnight eye seemed to wink.
Were they dreaming of Bilbo Baggins, too?
Yes, perhaps ... don't you think?
THE END
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(This post was edited by Silverlode on Dec 6 2013, 5:06am)