Bilbo Remembered
(I read this poem at the event held on The Hill above Bag End, organised by Miss Phloxie to remember Bilbo.)
Sit down children, listen well,
For I to you a tale would tell.
The hero I would have you meet,
A little chap, with furry feet.
The worthy master of Bag End,
His manners no one might offend,
Respectable, for all to see,
They’d gladly ask him round for tea.
To spend his days, safe in the Shire,
Was all to which he did aspire.
All hobbits crave a simple life,
Far from the noise of war and strife.
A wizard called and when he spoke,
This peace was shattered, at a stroke.
His words brought to his face a frown,
And turned his world quite upside down.
Thirteen dwarves came close behind,
And they to him their plan outlined,
From dragon’s hoard to steal the treasure,
Full of danger, beyond measure.
So, when they told him it was he,
Who must this fearless burglar be,
He said ‘Tut-tut’ and shook his head,
And said he’d like to die in bed.
But hobbits are a plucky kind,
In time of need they’ll courage find,
Reluctantly, he then agreed,
To help those fellows, in their need,
To boldly risk both fire and flood:
Remember, he had Tookish blood!
So, setting out on that bold quest,
He vowed that he would do his best.
Some might have thought he was the least,
Of those who made that journey east,
Yet oft, where deepest danger lies,
Will unexpected heroes rise.
In mountain tunnels, dark and drear,
He faced down Gollum without fear,
And beat that creature with a trick,
A hobbit’s wit is ever quick.
There’s little doubt he saved the day,
When to the goblins they fell prey,
For only at the hobbit’s cry,
Did Gandalf to their rescue fly.
When the dwarves hung on a branch
Our hobbit hero did not blanch.
But lured the spiders from that tree,
And then went back to set them free.
When from the elves he rescued them,
He used a clever stratagem,
In empty barrels bade them hide
Then pushed them in the river wide.
At last, within the dragon’s lair,
He calmed the brute with words most fair,
And coaxed the dragon to reveal,
That weak spot which his fate would seal.
Not once, but twice, he entered there,
Displaying bravery most rare,
And even though he wore his ring,
Such courage is a wondrous thing.
Yet once the dragon had been slain,
And others looked to their own gain,
The hobbit then did all he might,
To bring a peace, to end their fight.
And then at last, back to the Shire,
To sit in comfort by the fire,
To sup some ale, enjoy a joke,
In company with simple folk.
When years had passed, a full threescore,
He thought to venture out once more,
A last adventure undertake,
An ending for his tale to make.
Then Gandalf said he must forego,
The ring which he did covet so.
For on him it had worked its ill,
To give it up took iron will.
To Rivendell he made his way,
In scholarship to end his days
Until, close to his final rest,
He made the journey to the West.
So now, where once his days he’d pass,
Let all who stand here raise a glass,
To Bilbo Baggins drink a toast,
Who seemed the least but gave the most!
