Best Baggins Poems
“The Legendary Adventure Moments of Doctor Hermione Baggins the Reddish of Winterhold, The Master Sith Rainbow Lord Lulu Pucca, Cloud Kitty Carla Chandra the Ruby Rose, and Rand O'From Equestria the Darken Raw Snow vs The Strange A.A. or Perhaps B.S. Educated Scotties Homer Pilgrim’s Search for More Resources by Destroying the Galaxy to Make Way for a Interstellar Lightspeed Railway or Was It a Fishing Pond?”
Apathetic the game will continue on anyway
“Bidet,” a person points, "first door on the right in the hallway"
Celtic orchestrated melody commences to play
Drastic the GM in a serious voice proceeds to convey
“Exotic treasures will be rewarded at the story's endplay
Frederick and Scotty have threatened to destroy the floodway
Galactic dragons will soon have control of the realms gateway
Heretic man wearing the scarlet hand is on the highway
Icteric smiles seeing the party ‘do you have an issue?’”
“Judgematic paladin, what course of action will you do?”
“Kinesthetic, I'll flash step next to him and use my kung fu”
Laconic, looking over at the monk, “not your turn Lulu”
"Majestic I promenade over and address this mildew"
Novelistic I say, ‘the dragons, and mage, I must melee’”
“Optimistic the NPC rolls a 16 and tries to outplay
Panic soon kicks in as the druid and monk cross the pathway”
Quadraphonic sounds play as the initiative ensues
"Rollick, the monk and I go over, but I just rolled a two”
“Slapstick the heretic encounters the paladin’s swordplay
Tragic it's late and we must stop the story right here today
Unpoetic I know but we'll pick up again next Wednesday"
Updated 5/14/2019
With a golden nape, that area on the neck’s rear,
And a silent voice, excluding some chirps and stonks,
Speaking only to young, or between two or some in flight,
The golden eagle exudes those qualities that make humans right.
Flying maybe seventy-seven miles from their nest,
With wings up-turned in a V-shape for dynamics,
Which make a plane with the tail, aerodynamically set,
At a speed of one twenty mph without acoustics.
Open areas of nurturing native vegetation,
Make a home and life for development and tangle,
And mountainous rock regions find them hunting,
Bidding for rock pigeons and raven to mangle.
They devour creatures of the hair family fair and square,
And ground squirrels, grouse and pheasant they tare,
They’re not scared of deer, lamb, pigs or wild boar,
And sheep to them are a massively wide open door.
They have a dark brown body with feathers replaced annually,
Falconry is rife, and they get prestige from indigenous America,
Mentioned in the Torah, and the Old and New Testament fair,
Tolkien used it in an illustration to symbolise Bilbo Baggins air.
12/22/14
Props to the original Baggins
And his bravery towards the dragons
While he could've stayed behind with the wagons
Just a hobbit and quite the comic
But he should've watched it
And use all logic
Before trying to put on the ring inside of his pocket
Because another was unfortunate and lost it
This made him scathing mad
As he continued aging and
Inside a cave in the hills, far away from any raging sands
Originally had a name
But overtime he had changed
And was no longer the same
They didn't know what else to call him
Except for Gollum
Because he had fallen
And became solemn
Meanwhile the orcs
Marched with force
After coming into contact with the source
Of all evil from the North
The bell continued to toll
As the trolls
Looked to take all souls
With a heart darker than coal
During the events
The mist was dense
And full of suspense
But the ents that were immense
Put in their sense
And helped their allies get across the fence
Here we go again
Around the bend
It didn't end
In the eyes of children, ladies and men
Who could be considered a trusted friend?
By: Dalton Ogletree
This seems to be a lifetime journey
I'm sure more than a few can relate
Doing my best in this formidable quest
In search of the perfect toothpaste
From grocery aisles to shopping malls
To mom and pop roadside stands
Standing in line at the 5 and dime
There's no corner that I haven't been
Looking for the flavor to which my teeth savor
From blue to green to red peppermint
I've tried bubblegum and for meat lovers, bacon
Even the new cinnamon no rinse
But it's not only the flavor that's concerning
It also has to do with the foam
While brushing my teeth in the morning
I look like a rabid dog on the roam
So it's back to the store in search of much more
I feel like Frodo Baggins the Hobbit
From top shelf to floor in this my Middle Earth
Until the elusive paste I have got it
Yes, my friend like you I'll keep trying
For the toothpaste that removes any doubt
But until then I'll toss them into the bin
Saved up for the day I caulk my house
As the summer sunlight hits
the surface of the lake
I am transfixed by a million kaleidoscopic
sparkles making the water look like
a silver-blue satin sheet
complete
with thousands of winking diamonds
upon it strewn
like some cosmic boon
an ethereal treasure
a dazzling gift of the fickle Texas weather
causing my eyes to squint
from the overwhelming glint
though I try to keep them open
pupils coping
because the ambiance is magic
so brief, it's tragic
the lake seems like a living creature
a silent preacher
reflecting the wonder of God...
I start to nod
as I feel my skin bake
regardless of the claims they make
surely this must be healing
this wonderful feeling.
I breathe deeply and clear my throat
as I note
out of the corner of my eye
a brilliant green-blue dragonfly
wings beating at lightening speed
hovering over a stand of reeds
like some kind of prehistoric chopper
only...elegant and proper.
I marvel at the aerodynamics of
this minature flying myth
proving dragons still exsist
as it darts and then hangs suspended
irredescently splendid
as God intended
suddenly flying in reverse
(physics be cursed)
then warp-speed ahead and
my body feels like lead
as a thought crosses my drowsy mind
wondering if, at a certain time,
they were descended from dragons,
thinking of Bilbo Baggins...
or maybe they're aliens come to invade
not realizing
until they arrived the
mistake they'd made
on the matter or sizing
for, if they were larger, like
planes, if you will,
we'd all be transfixed
by their flying skill.
So maybe they're tiny, frustrated invaders
living like traitors.
I focus now on the whirr of it's wings
and the lullaby it sings
finally surrendering
and my last conscious thought
that my psyche reveals
is that
this must be
how happiness feels.
Which character
will you be changed into today?
Perhaps Alexander Portnoy
or Bilbo Baggins
You should take note
of the way you read
and not become part
of a story you didn't like
After all - you are
not a fictional character
You are something
real
like the earth, sky
and moon
You exist in real time
Reading is a nice way
to fantasize
Don't get caught between
the pages
You'll find yourself crashing
into the dark waters of unreality
Adrift in a sea of dreams
you'll get lost
and you won't be able
to escape
Do you really think
you can find a way
in and out
of a made up world?
Good luck to you
with that one
Believe me - I am not the best Jew in the world
I have read AJ Heschel though
Who marched with MLK
Nice to have peace between the black and Jewish communities
One of my first girl friends was an Afro American
She pretty
But we were both only 16
Recently I was "dumped " by a Jewish chick
Well, she is not into poetry too much anyway
I am not Bilbo Baggins
Don't live in a hole in the ground
Perhaps I can find my soul - mate here is the Big Apple!!
Or perhaps not
Keep writing verse all you out there in the darkness!!!
bilbo baggins bop
middle earth menagerie
ringmaster Galloum prowls his loss
Sharoun's fire eye tracks the prize
Crack of Doom awaits
Stages in the “Art of Giving Up”
Suspenders
My ass won’t hold the pants up anymore
Turn Signals
Just leave ‘em on
I forgot where I was headed
Velcro closures
If you know why it’s already too late
Your “mobile” phone
Is no longer that mobile
Its ringtone
Bring on the Clowns
Stairways
Look like an optical illusion
Your birthday
No longer a celebration….
More of a destination
Your ZUMBA class
Sounds like a cricket discussion group
Your feet resemble those of Bilbo Baggins
“FUZZY SOCKS AND CROCS”
6/8/2021
Fuzzy socks and crocs Poetry Contest
Friend - Can you show
me the way to Middle Earth?
Enough of this century
of angst and warfare
My desire is to see
elves singing in the
twilight
The creations of the dwarves
beckon to me
and I understand their love
of mirthril
Friend - please point
me in the direction
of the Last Homely House
My longing to see Elrond
and Arwen Evenstar is
something I can barely control
Does your map show
the way to Lothlorien?
Celeborn and Galadriel still
reign in that enchanted wood
I pine to see mallorn trees
Do you know the way
to the Shire?
I want to be there
in early autumn
When the harvests are in
And I would like to
quaff cold Shire - Ale
With any Baggins, Took
or Gamgee who will
drink with me
Friend - Please show me
the way to Middle Earth
I would like to live in a house in the The Shire;
sit upon the stoop, smoke a pipe, blow fancy rings
into the air.
I would like to go adventuring; slay the dragon,
retrieve it's hoard of gold, become a legend.
I would like to live to one hundred and eleven,
celebrate, then disappear.
Inspired by the adventures of Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit in JRR Tolkien's "The Fellowship of the Ring".
The Celestial NAAFI
Well there sits old Buck like he always did,
Waving his pipe and tilting his lid.
There’s Johnny and Ronny and Shep and old Taffy,
And Soapy still doing his impression of Daffy.
Flapper all quiet at the side with McGraw.
Knocker and Geordie, and old Billy Shore.
And over there’s Banjo, spinning his yarns,
And Bod with his girlfriends, trying to dance.
There’s Baggins and Pusser, Slinger and Freddy,
There’s Millie with Googie – they look like they’re ready.
With Annie and Jo-Jo, it looks like old Hutch
Is making sure he hasn’t lost his light touch.
While Jeffers and Benjy are dealing the cards,
Doc still complains that that the games are too hard.
The faces familiar, the uniforms right,
All fitting perfect, none loose and none tight.
Everyone’s happy and looking their best,
From bulled-up toe-caps to the gongs on their chests.
Back by the bar are the older lads too,
Who went long before, whom none of us knew.
Blue suits and red coats, khaki and green,
All badges and headgear that ever were seen.
Ancient or modern, by sea, land or air,
Be sure of a welcome when it’s time to be there.
Raise a hand and smile, shout a cheery Hello!
To the Celestial NAAFI, where Service Folk go.