Three Poems by Tina Negus

 

Bewitched?

 

High above the Vale,

in castle’s tower, the boy lies sick: it seems that he will die.

 

His noble father blames witch Joan Flower,

for she did threaten, bluster, curse and lie, and now his child

knocks on death’s gloomy door.

 

Joan’s daughters both admitted guilt,

and hanged, but she claimed she was merely old

and poor and needing aid from selling herbs,

and wronged most vilely by this accusation grave.

 

She sought to clear her name of this foul deed,

but choked on the blessèd bread

which should have proved her innocence.

 

In the church, take heed: there rests the lad in tomb

of grand design, yet of the “witch” herself there is no sign.

Hobbit Questions

 

Would you have gone with Bilbo,

into the dragon’s lair?

Would you have travelled through Mirkwood?

Tell me, would you dare?

 

Would you do battle with trolls,

with orcs and Gollum, too?

Would you enter Moria?

Really now, would you?

 

If you could travel with Frodo,

frightened, weary and cold,

if you could go into Mordor,

would you be so bold?

 

And if you met with the Horsemen,

the Riders on their grim steeds,

would you give in to their fury,

or would you perform brave deeds?

 

And if you met up with the wizard,

the one they call Gandalf the Grey,

would you be awkward and tongue-tied,

or could you have your say?

 

Would you like to stride out with Aragorn,

over the bleak, bare fells?

Or would you hide in the woodland,

within the elven dells?

 

And how would you fare in the battle,

the siege at Gondor’s gate?

Or perhaps you’d ride with the Rohirrim:

would that be your fate?

 

And if you encountered the Spider,

and her web in Shelob’s den,

in the sticky black hole where she waited:

what would you do then?

 

And if you stood on the brink of Doom,

like Frodo, with the Ring in your hand,

could you throw it away, destroy it,

would you understand?

 

And after it all was over,

all the wars and trouble and strife,

could you go back home to your garden

and lead an ordinary life?

Hobbity Hill

 

Exploring our new locality

all those years ago,

the bracken-clad hill, its winding paths

and twisting pines, with brambles and bilberry

and rabbity holes,

we said how hobbity it is!

 

Many years later we discovered that JRRT

had lived as a child in the ruined cottage

on the eastern slopes, facing the rising sun;

with the liberty of the hill above.

 

The cottage has now vanished,

Tolkien himself long gone.,

and we are far away,

but the hill is still hobbity.

By Tina Negus