Monday, May 30, 2016


With apologies to the Prince of Fantasists...

Out of the wind-swept plains to the Hill Country I am come
In this place I will abide, and my heir
Until the ending of the world
Or until I find a job in some other place
Whose worth is such that leaving again
This land where I was raised
Is worth the doing
For the securing of my heirs
The one who is and the others who may come
For so long as is given me to do
But I doubt that it will be sung
As it is to be written in Tengwar

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