"I think I have amnesia. What bad luck!"
They rushed him to a healer to check for bumps on his head.

And he awoke in some random bed
On it sat many cute things and toys.....

Three little Elven girls and two little hobbit boys,
Who before Frodo's staring eyes came to life

And pranced around him, each wielding a penknife!
But it was all just a horrible nightmare

For Frodo found himself at a Hobbit fare
So got drunk on the Gaffer's home brew!

Not to mention Rosie's spiked mushroom stew!
He danced and pranced and sang a silly song

But, it seems, he got the words all wrong
And Saruman came to laugh at him loudly

While Frodo stood and pointed proudly
"I'm doing better than you could I'm sure.."

For I've had Rosie's surefire cure
For gout, ague, and fear of speeches.

She makes it from holy water and sweet peaches."
But Saruman at this laughed only harder

And nosed around greedily in Rosie's larder,
Finding mulled apple pie and roast mutton pasties

He stole all sorts of sweet, mouth-watering tasties
Stuffing them into his pockets deep

And in Isenguard made a large heap
of all he had stolen in his malice

But it sank under its own weight, lacking ballast,
until found by a Balrog named Hubert

Who was eating a lot of sherbet
So he was going insane on sugar

And he shouted "Booger! Booger!"
Until Saruman came to calm him down.

And he looked at him with a vicious frown
"I do not like how you have behaved..."

So if you don't stop I'll have your wings shaved."
"Sez you," Hubert retorted. "Try an' I'll whip your...

sensitive bum, whippin' it raw an' red an' sore."
Saruman fumed. "I'll have revenge! You will be sorry soon!"

"A one an' a two!" cried Hub. Doom! Doom! Doom!
Went the orc drums to Hubert's conducting

And across the room Hubert went strutting
Showing off his musical prowess right to Saruman's face

Saruman couldn't help himself and joined Hubert's pace,
forgetting to be mad; so he danced a jig

And his dance was indeed very big
Especially deep in Dwarven houses

Where there are a lot of little mouses*
And they scampered around Saruman's feet

*Now that's what we call exercise of poetic license. :p

and chewed off his shoe laces quite complete.
He tripped, bonked his nose, and fell on his ars

(there's some more poetic license .... namely bad grammar :rolleyes: )

Even though the poetic licence was a farce*
He cheered himself up by writing to Radagast


* :p

Who read the letter and then thought "Blast!
Now I'll have to go to his aid."

And I probably won't get paid,
For Saruman's wallet oft is closed

And will now be especially hard-nosed
As he doesn't like Gandalf anyway.

Saruman won't pay me! Not today!"
But still he hurried off to aid his master

Unfortunately he couldn't walk any faster
For the mouses found their way to him

To escape their wrath he tried to swim
Across a river wide and cold

But a wise daga got into a fold
in his cloak and swam along...

The daga hid there all day long,
for the entire journey to Saruman's house.

On the way he met a friendly louse
Who hated wizards overmuch

And they conspired over lunch
To bother the wizard whose cloak they hid in.

But their council caused such a din
that the wizards burned their cloaks

And caused such an attack of the smokes*
That the daga and louse ran right away

*what?

"There's fire where smoke is," they say,
"And no Balrog defeats us! We're heroes!"

But then the wizards remembered their clothes,
Which they had just burned up in a flame...