Bingo Bolger-Baggins, Esqre (bbolger_baggins) wrote,
Bingo Bolger-Baggins, Esqre
bbolger_baggins

ODE TO SANCHO PROUDFOOT by Bingo Bolger-Baggins

The poetry slam at Butterbur's the other night has certainly gotten me on a roll. I penned another poem today to someone who, quite surprisingly, is well missed. Here it is, for you Big Guy (that's "big" in the relative sense; and no, that's just referring to height; I'd have no knowledge of other applications for you):



ODE TO SANCHO PROUDFOOT

Oh Sancho! Sancho!
Where have you gone?
There's no naked drunk
Lying out on the lawn.

Sancho! Oh Sancho!
Where could you be?
The sombreros are empty
And droop without thee.

And where is the fine heart-sick stalkerwooer,
Following Frodo around with devotion,
And doing a dance all askew-er,
Gyrating with lascivious motion?

Sancho! O Sancho!
With the Valar would deal
Love's sweetest sacrifice
For Frodo to heal.

Sancho! Oh Sancho!
Where are your devices?
The mail order business's
Stocks are in crisis.

And where is the fine heart-sick stalkerwooer,
Following Frodo around with devotion,
And doing a dance all askew-er,
Gyrating with lascivious motion?

Sancho! O Sancho!
Your sock drawer's a mess.
The mushrooms that grow there
Formed a union, no less.

Sancho! Oh Sancho!
The Haunted Hole's empty.
The flowers grow wild,
And-the-rising-real-estate-values make resale quite tempt-y.

And where is the fine heart-sick stalkerwooer,
Following Frodo around with devotion,
And doing a dance all askew-er,
Gyrating with lascivious motion?

Oh Sancho! Sancho!
Where have you gone?
There's no naked drunk
Lying out on the lawn.

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