Middle Earth

I want to live where

Loyal little men with

big hearts & big hairy feet

live, with their dirt

smudged faces, who are

as brave as dragons.

Their perfectly carved out

cottages in the hills of

the Shire, round and

neat and Idyllic. I want

to live there, and breathe

the air there, but not as

a short big footed hobbit.

I want to be an Elf, —

tall and slender—

with the movements

of elegant precision,

like golden arrows slicing

through the air like

march winds … and loyal.

But – there is no neighbor,

no friend more loyal

than the always

ill-tempered dwarf,

whose word once given

Is more solid.

He will stand by you

till his death

if only because he promised.

And he did die for me, Kili,

and for Tauriel,

and other romantics

who thought

we were ruthless

assassins

in Middle Earth.

But in this bleak

world full of promise

and gold, with the

devastationtion of Smaug

There is one whose friendship

more loyal than all,

his goodness … blinds

in the darkness

like the sparkle of jewels —

in the noon sun

is our grey wizard.

But I must retreat to the Shire

to my little cottage

for some tea

I must return to

formation and the forest.

Even elves grow tired

when orcs lay dead

at their feet.