*sniffles* I have been addicted to Tolkien since I was a kid...*sniffles* I-I just can't help myself...I-I get the shakes and-and I can't control myself...they say the first step to solving your problem is-is *sniffle* admitting you have one...But-but-but I don't have a problem...people say that I do but I don't!!*bursts into tears* It's not a problem!!
*blinks* Whoa...must be the cough medicine...
~~Daegwenn
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"And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—Riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair"
Highwayman
Alfred Noyes
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