Happy Birthday, Young Hobbit

The Dawn of the Age of Man
A Coming of Age Poem for Robb

Oh, dragons burn the elven kind,
The elves, for sport, hunt wolf;
But wolves will tear off dragons’ skin
And rend their monstrous wings.

The elves go hunting the dire wolf,
Dire wolf destroys the wyrm;
But dragons burn the elven folk
To stump, and ash – to smoke.

Grey wolf packs dine on dragonflesh,
Dragons, aflight, burn elves;
But elves slay wolf for sheer delight:
Hunt warg both day and night.

In death Ouroborous descends
And thus begins the age of men.

Sorry I can’t be there tonight, and that this is neither stage lights nor a Harley. Have a great day, and enjoy your first taste of being properly old – it’s all up or down hill, depending on your point of view, from here.

3 thoughts on “Happy Birthday, Young Hobbit”

  1. Thanks Ruth, and a general, normal, just-another-day-ness was the main theme I was aiming for – I’m glad at least a little bit of that came across.

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