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Deep into the stony hills, miles from Is-en-gard,
a horde of Urk-hai running, running fast and running hard.
Tthey carry with them halflings, stolen at their lord’s command:
he seeks the Ring of Power to adorn his gnarled hand.
Three things see no end,
a flower blighted e’re it blooms,
the message that miscarries
and the journey that is doomed.
Some amongst the uglies call a halt to their hard flight,
they’re hungry and they’re footsore, and they’re glad to pick a fight.
The group begins to argue, and a head or two gets chopped,
the hobbits try to flee but are by hungry goblin stopped.
Three things never trust in,
the wound that will not heal,
the ally who keeps secrets,
and a hungry mob with steel.
From ambush Rhorim screaming charge the Urk-hai and their prize,
and every one who’s not on horse is taken by surprise,
and all but three are cut down as a woodsman fells a log:
the hobbits started running and the goblin ran along.
Of three things be wary:
a Rohan man on horse,
a Sheild-maid who is angry,
and the Fanghorn Forest, of course.
The hungry goblin chases and the frightened hobbits flee,
they try to hide themselves up in the branches of a tree,
But it’s an Ent who’s napping, and once awake he sets things right:
stomps the goblin, takes the hobbits off to meet the Wizard White.
Three things never anger
or you will not live for long:
A dwarf with axe, a wizard true,
and an Entish sense of wrong.