Summer poetry report

Post date: Sep 10, 2011 8:35:1 PM

By Jadite Bumblefoot  Once upon a summer’s day, Hobbits gathered to listen with delight;  To the poems their fellows had to share, There they stayed until night fell,  When one was chosen from them all,  To hold the name of “Summertime Bard” 

And what a grand time it was, to see so many smiling faces and eager ones too. The poets stood around, some refreshing their memories, others content to wait their turn. Miss Severlda bustled around keeping the hungry minds – and stomachs of all fed. Her famous *Soup-in-a-pie* proved to be a winner with the audience, and her ales went down a treat.

The Judges had been kept a secret; ye never know who might think of slipping an extra pie if they’d been known afore. But I had no fear of that, as one was our most honourable Shirrif Miss Nimelia Stoutfoot and the other, that Mistress of Music Miss Primmrose Spinney. Judges settled the contest began, and what a show it was. Some in their eagerness to write had forgotten the theme set out fer the contest, but we didna hold that against any.  Poems ranged from tales of Hairy Feet to make ye laugh to tales to make ye weep of love ignored.  And lest we forget the visit we were granted by one of the Forest folk – who asked leave to tell a tale of his kin-folk to stir the heart and brings thoughts of what may be over the distant Bree fields.

All too soon it seemed, it were time for the Judges to decide, and although the winner may not have been a surprise, one of the ones who came before was.

Third place went to Cloves the Amazing for her gut busting poem about “Hairy Feet”

To the surprise of all, more so he Matzo Shenanigan won second place. Who after his niece Miralith failed to turn up, spun a tale of his own creating “Tipsy House”

But the overwhelming winner and proud bearer of the title “Summertime Bard” was none other than the poet Master himself – Simbo Rumblebelly!

A great thank ye, to all the poets fer taking part yours was the hardest task of all. And many have asked, so all I’ll now say:

When nights grow longer, and leaves do fall

Shall we gather once more to hear the call?

-Jadite Bumblefoot