Jack and John
A meeting of minds in eagle and child,
These giants of myth through smoke beer beguiled.
The stage by a hearth of fire and stone,
Unsteady of foot to journey unknown.
A poetic tongue and booming cries,
Jack’s tale of young heroes’ courage defies.
In a land of magic, danger and fear,
Faith unites kin to victory and cheer.
This voyage of words and intrigue reflect,
A man of great stature no critics reject.
Returning to earth, peers drunk on a treat,
John’s hand on his knees, pipe down, to his feet.
A lowered brow, a soft word spoke,
Through mountains great and ancient oak.
A fellowship born of heart, of soul,
An evil destroyed through fire and coal.
This triumph of will and hope placed on man,
A tale to inspire, transcending Rohan.
The guide retreats back, revered in this crowd,
A pint to behold, a critical shroud.
Warmed by the fire and warmed by the beer,
Jack turns to John for council and ear.
“Be content with your pen, the folk here are taken,
The words you present must not be forsaken”.
John looks to his friend, his rival in prose,
His thoughts turned to lions and witches – he rose!
“A critical eye is needed in myth,
Though, you, seem content with creaky and stiff”.
A pause between Inklings so prolifically great,
A relationship founded in literary fate.
The silence was broken with mirth and great joy,
As these legends of story embraced the ‘old boy’!
© CShaw
