brass buttons
(like other tokens by good stories)
I think Peter Rabbit
as well as
Bilbo Baggins had them
as
I think both beings
lost their own
one set to a fenced farmer
while
the other
to the great door
of a goblin
lair
brass buttons
then
might be a trinket and
a trophy
in addition to staid usefulness
to fasten
but the brightness of small things
to have
to lose
by farmers and by goblins
and other
taller foes in the world
and shall
new
gilded circles be given
or
otherwise arranged
so that vests and coats might be
fastened
against the cold and rain
or other depredations caused
by
great and closed cropper fences
or
Orc doors
as also shining things for
pleasures
be
restored
maybe to the reader
to match with likened
tokens
treasures
too
and
hey
even with their
losses
the rabbit and the hobbit
respectively
escaped from
their foes
c l couch
(Peter, whose jacket is classically depicted with bright buttons, actually loses the whole jacket plus his shoes in escaping from McGregor; Bilbo loses his brass buttons squeezing through the back door of the goblins’ mountain)
photo by Tyler Lastovich on Unsplash
(pretend the door is green, which, in fact, it is)
Westmarch
sometimes I wish
I were a
well-to-do hobbit
except for
the living
in the ground
even a comfort-home
in there
would aggravate
most likely
claustrophobia
as being carried by
an eagle
would invoke
the other
unreasoned fear I have
but still
to have a day
to write a book
of my adventures
having had
adventures
first
and to have tea
close at hand
with cakes
and at a table
by the window
with my pens
(all right
computer)
and paper
at my side
and on which
I write
(well
type)
and maybe to have
friends
who come to call
for friendly reasons
only
I hear their stories
while
I also think
on dragons
Dwarves
and Elves
and wistfully
believe
I should be somewhere else
with them
c l couch
photo by Andrew Seaman on Unsplash
I am trying the “Verse” option in WordPress, because in part I think I should; and at least I miss having to type Xes for spaces. I’m not sure how it’s going; I’m not sure what you receive, even though I proofread graphically as well. I’ll keep trying. Thanks for reading.
Tollers
Yesterday
His birthday
The day before
My brother’s
For who shall be
My brother
Well
My brother
Though I could meet
Him
In the Bird and Baby
As in a pub
He met
With Dracula
(a good story
that)
And I shall send a card
To my brother
Through electrons
And there shall be
Good wishing
In a meeting
With him
Too
That may
Or may not happen
Though we know
We can’t see
Tollers
Save on pages
And having seen
His son
Once
At a conference
At which I read
A paper
About riddles
C L Couch
notes
Henry V, Act IV, Scene 3.18 ff
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, 3 January 1892 – 2 September 1973
Steven Eric Couch, 2 January
Photo by Tarik Haiga on Unsplash [kind of mixing up Tolkien’s use of dragons with the Year of the Dragon approaching]
(x = space)
x
Floods, Swords (two poems)
could read the second of them while waiting on the first
x
x
Consider Extra Floods
x
Jackson
And Jacksonville
Puerto Rico
Cuba
Indonesia
Pakistan
Recently, in Europe
Maybe here on Friday
x
The Earth warms
The polar shelves
Send sheets of ice
Into the ocean
Water rises
x
Storms increase
Maybe we should
Appreciate complaint
From our own
Planet
From the core to the skies
And those of us
All of us
On middle ground
Between the hell and heaven
Spirituality
Counting its own cost
In faith and lives
Of our own globe
In a waiting cosmos
x
x
Consider Broken Swords
(Lord of the Rings)
x
Sting was never fixed,
Which would have been bad
For marketing
Though reminding
If not teaching
Us quite rightly
For the story
That the sharpest swords
Don’t have to win the day
And brokenness and heroes
Go together
x
The famous sword
The one that sang for Aragorn
Is fixed by Elven smiths
And ready for the final fights
In Rohan
Osgiliath
Minas Tirith
At the Black Gate
At last
These are the heroes whom we know
The king revealed
Wanderer and healer
The sword
That has a greater name
With supernal persona
Magic
In personality,
In character
As it were
x
But Sting
Is in a box
In Rivendell
Until it’s brought out
For a hobbit’s use
An unknown being
Anonymity its armor
(which had served the king
for a time)
They would sting another spider
Fill with poison
Topping off the stinging burden
Of an eldritch thing
And promises
Nothing healing
‘Til the mountainside
And going in
To face the fire
x
Goodness, there are heroes
There are lives
That serve the world
That sacrifice all pleasures
And promises
To take on one great evil
In front of armies
On one’s own
Inside mountains
At the gate
Of hell on Earth
Of hell on Middle-Earth
For all of us, between
x
The small sword
Is character as well
Four heroes, as it were,
Famous
On the surface
Or unfamous,
Inside holes for homes
Then mines and caves
Tunnels without songs
Until at home again
To rest
When things are done
Awaiting passage to
A healing land
x
Five heroes
Add two more
Then seven
Then many more
And villainous
And in-between corrupt
Great wars to settle things
The hobbits home at last
We close the books
So are we
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Octavian Dan on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Sleeper Awake
x
It’s 69 degrees
(Fahrenheit)
At (twelve-oh-five, we say)
12:05
x
Fall arrives
And hobbits,
The birthdays
Of the Bagginses
x
New season
With an equinox
Autumnal
To complement
The vernal
By a half,
Half a year,
Half a world
x
We tilt into another
And existentially
A new one
x
We have not had
Today
Or this changing
Of the Earth
Around 11
Post-meridian
x
Here is the same season
As a new one,
New seconds
Newly breathed
Into hours
And an age
Collectively
x
Spring to the south,
Autumn
To the north where
Where there
Might be dragons
In their lairs.
Then
We bring in cold air
And awaken them
x
We think fall
Might be the readiness
For freezing,
Sleeping winter;
And yet
(like new school years
for young ones
and for teachers)
Here and now
The adventure,
The quest
Might begin
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Hans Isaacson on Unsplash
x
Hobbit’s Birthday Note
(from in the trunk-folds of an ancient tree)
For all friends of dwarves and elves
Of your esteemed and genial selves,
Tomorrow we’ll hold mirth at bay
To celebrate our Baggins Day!
As antique as this parchment found,
Tradition of who’ll buy the round:
Mechanics, lords, and love-you-all
To join us on first day of fall,
To watch and wary by the end—
He’ll disappear, our Bilbo-friend!
clcouch123 
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