Unicorn's are thought not to be real, but Tolkien considered them real enough. I do, too. |
'Twas a pink and a fluffy wee unicorn in the heart of the battle as Earth was torn. Reepicheep by his side, rapier wit and drawn sword, facing down ev'ry foe for the Glorious Lord! "Take a look at this pony! We'll mince all this meat!" bellowed Azog, Defiler, the white orc they'd greet. "Move a step and we'll send thee to Hell in a box!" cried the unicorn standing with Fox in his socks. "Our Dear Aslan has moved. All of Narnia is won! Now the Earth of the Middle will bow to the Son!" Maddened cry, gaping mouth, Azog lunged at the horse, whose one horn, now ablaze leveled monster by force. But then Bolg came apace to avenge master's pate with some horns of his own on his shoulders to date. Swiftly swiping as unicorn danced all about, laid a vicious, cold paw on the side of his snout. He was toppled o'er side of the cliff in disgrace, but his falling was stopped by an eagle in place To the Fords of Beruna they flew right away to seek Aslan, whose touch would return to the fray. All the while Reepicheep and the Fox leveled arms to withstand all his smelly, malevolent harms. They with band of all brothers and sisters and kin knew no thought of an outcome, except for a Win. After touch and great breath Bob, the Unicorn flew on the back of the eagle to battle 'till through. What a sight he then saw at the edge of Fangorn! Reepicheep in the hand of this Bolg he was borne. But the Fox in his muddy black socks gave great chase, near the cliff there to throw and a life to erase. All at once near the apex of Throw-Away Hill met Fox' knife on Bolg's back as a horn released swill. Just as Reepicheep felt the great hold become less, and he jumped on its back and then ran through the mess, Leaping there to the edge of the cliff with one paw as the surly great creature fell lead on its maw. Now a day of release with the worse surely past, but the jubilant song would not live long at last For old Sauron was wroth as his gen'rals lay slain. He would cause acid drops from his clouds now to rain. Then "more rapid than eagles his coursers they came," as Saint Nicholas showed to blow out all its flame. For he laughed as he said from his jelly-filled self, "There'll be jolly today or I'm not a big elf!" "Here's your coal! Now, you go back to Hell, Smoky Man! For I have things to do in this Earth by my plan!" As he opened his mouth to speak more to the Dark tongues of fire dark as soot swirled to take him apart. But the jolly old elf bellowed laughter to fill all of Earth with its Joy and then Heaven to thrill For he knew as we do that no flame can o'erpower one whose chimney-soot coat has its day and its hour! "Hop aboard, Little 'Corn, with your mouse-whiskered friend! Let the Fox with his socks, muddied though they have been, join your exploits with me the dark cloud to put out for his words are just wind now that Aslan's about! "Let us see how his Eye can beat head with a horn as I fling this brass ring down his gullet forlorn!" For the fluffy, pink unicorn now had his strength and the vict'ry for Good was now ours at a length. But the Dark Lord of Death flung his whip of dark stuff, caught the middle of horn, yanked the head sure enough. Shook the ring 'til quite loose, there it fell out of sight, fading hope turning blue, How could all be put right? Reepicheep in a flash slipped through crack in the cliff, caught the ring on his sword, hope and ring both to lift, Then to unicorn ran, rubbed his neck that was sore, readied aim with the ring, loft at target once more. As it sailed through the air birds of prey formed a "V," they protected the weapon that set us all free. Fin'lly falling o'er last of the rock-ledges there was a creature so spindly without thinking care. Gollum had what was precious to him in his mind, but he lost breath of life showing thinking was blind For the ring in his hand had soon melted away, while his soul went to Hell, he himself to betray. With the shrillest of pitch Father Death was turned out thus attending forever his spiritual gout, The most lasting of pain was his worthiest prize for the villainy causing Humanity's cries. Little pony, was this in your heart to be done, help the Master of All, greatest Vict'ry be won? For your horn on the cross 'pon the Skull one sad day, pierced the hands and the feet of One's fullest obey! Although pierced on the wood as the ring burst in flame, all our hope seemed as dead and His Rulership same. He arose on Day Three with your piercings still seen with our Hope ever new, no impurities, clean. So wee friend, let us dance and then run and then shout for the Vict'ry is won and that quite without doubt! You have fought as a pink, fluffy unicorn should with your might, hoping somehow result would be good. Yet, we must say the truth as all honest ones say that our good is just wood and our strength just decay. We know Savior of All wins through Door of Defeat. When His Vict'ry is won, then is ne'ermore retreat. Now forever will dance Reepicheep and the Fox, Joyful men and all angels in Land with no clocks. There the pink, fluffy unicorn's handsomely real with the other great mysteries He will reveal. Line Count: 100 Structured Poem: Anapestic Tetrameter by Jay O'Toole on April 10th, 2017 |