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Viagraquenta : The Lay of the Mortal Women
by Olori Eldalie
(to the tune of…oh, be original)
Ah! Those mortals in love
With Elven prin-cesses
Silv’ry of skin, and lengthy of tresses.
Tuor and Idril
And Luthien fair,
with brave Beren storming
into Morgoth’s lair.
Aragorn mucking about in the woods
Till he kicked Dark Lord butt
And won his true love.
JR was a Man
writing in a Man’s time.
But Real Women want
to have equal rhyme.
PJ came along,
and gave us our prizes,
with chisel-dy cheekbones
and great big brown eyeses.
Lithe as a greyhound
steadfast as a goose,
with possibly some parts
Resembling a moose.
Oh! Legolas Greenleaf
long under tree
in joy thou hast lived
beware of the screams
of zillions of ardent
teen-age-ery girls.
But take not that grey ship!
Depart not this world!
Don’t panic, don’t flee
(but keep Gimli beside you).
True fans will remain
whatever betide you.
Whether fleeing from balrog
or raptor or mummy,
or blasting it out
in some vast space slug’s tummy.
Dropped from a Black Hawk
or doing wire-fu,
In some sappy romance,
or voice of cartoon.
We’ll descend on the-aters
like Sauron’s Dark Hordes,
and eat all the popcorn,
and drool on the floors.
We’ll storm all the malls,
buy up all the toys
(what’s this? Oh, hah, hah
for my nephew in Boise).
We’ll write awful poetry
Stories, and fix
up all our walls
with posters and pix.
Your sweet shining visage
makes us all quite wary
of mere mortal Men
balding, pudgy or hairy.
What we really want
‘neat out Christmas trees
is one Gandalf’s Helper
sans costume, please.
