hobbits

Now good things do
All come in twos
Here's a list
I'll read to you

Apples and pears
Rabbits and hares
Grey-haired hobbits
And rocking chairs
Peaches and cream
Sleep and dreams
Fish in rivers
Trout and bream

Scones and jam
Pots and pans
Pairs of gloves
And pairs of hands
Yawns and sighs
A pair of eyes
A pair of plates
Holding two pies

Is this a real pie? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a hunger dream, got no key for the pantry!
Open your eyes, just grab a slice and see...
I'm a poor Hobbit, I need pie regularly...
A little apple pie, cherry pie, mushroom pie, berry pie...
Any flavour really, it doesn't really matter, to me, to me.

Mama, just stole a pie, put a slice upon my plate, then I took a spoon and ate...
Mama, once I had begun, I just couldn't stop eating till it was gone.
Mama, oooh, didn't mean to eat all the pie, and now we won't have any pie tomorrow...

I hear from my sources that there has been a murder of a halfling in the inn at Bree. Most distasteful. It appears that agents of the northern rising are implicated in what can only be a fumbled fiasco. Entering a public place... killing a halfling. A halfling! The killing of a halfling is as fear-inducing as a pair of children scrumping apples in a neighbours garden. For shame. Killing is the tool of those with little wit for anything else. Useful, but only rarely.

Old Jacob makes his way
To the Three Farthing Stone
Strolling down the Stock Road
So old and so alone
There he stops and stares
As tears fill his eys
Looking back so sadly
A life that passed him by
"Where did it all go wrong?", he cried
"No hobbit lass is at my side"

With their little toes
And little feet
Lightly tapping down the street
How can you but not desire?
The Hobbit Lasses of The Shire

With flowers circling
Their flowing hair
Fluttering softly on the air
You can never ever tire
Of Hobbit Lasses of The shire

In their coloured hats
And coloured gowns
Cotton ribbons all around
Dressed up in such fine attire
Fine Hobbit Lasses of the Shire