[HerenIstarion]

Look, there is Fastitocalon!
An island good to land upon,
Although 'tis rather bare.
Come, leave the sea! And let us run,
Or dance, or lie down in the sun!
See, gulls are sitting there!
Beware!
Gulls do not sink.
There they may sit, or strut and prink:
Their part it is to tip the wink,
If anyone should dare
Upon that isle to settle,
Or only for a while to get
Relief from sickness or the wet,
Or maybe boil a kettle.
Ah, foolish folk, who land on HIM,
And little fires proceed to trim
And hope perhaps for tea!
It may be that His shell is thick,
He seems to sleep; but He is quick,
And floats now in the sea
With guile;
And when He hears their tapping feet,
Or faintly feels the sudden heat,
With smile
HE dives,
And promptly turning upside-down
He tips them off, and deep they drown,
And lose their silly lives
To their surprise,
Be wise!
There are many monsters in the Sea,
But none so perilous as HE,
Old horny Fastitocalon,
Whose mighty kindred all have gone,
The last of the old Turtle-fish.
So if to save your life you wish
Then I advise:
Pay heed to sailors' ancient lore,
Set foot on no uncharted shore!
Or better still,
Your days at peace on Middle-earth
In mirth
Fulfill!


***


Hear, there comes Armageddon
But what is it? The End? The Dawn?
This news is rather rare
Come, let us ponder, let us think
For we have come upon the brink
Is meaning over there?
Beware!
Wise do not ask
For all we know, in Trust they bask
To teach the laymen is their task
If anyone should care,
To ask for ancient lore
Or only for a while afore
Their death the Real Love adore
Dare not you to compare!
Ah, blessed folk, who think of Him
Or maybe see Him in their dream
And hope for calm on sea
It may be that He seems away
He seems to sleep, His feet of clay
But near is the spring of glee!
He’ll come!
And when we hear Him by the gate
The knot unties, and done is fate
For some!
And some!
Who promptly turned upside-down
May be, and to the Void be thrown
To lose their silly lives
To their surprise!
Be wise!
There is no else to sooth but Him
Or open mind and sight too dim
To see afore Armageddon
The day of Doom, the day of storm
The last of all the days of old
Sweeps stars and moon, turns fire cold.
So say the wise:
Pay heed to old forgotten lore
And choose with care what you adore
Or better still
Love Him instead, with daily bread
Be fed
Or dead!