If you're going to review such a classic work, you'd best have something new to say, and say it in a fresh way to boot. Hope I've succeeded on both counts:
Lord of the Rings (three books with wings)
by J.R.R. Tolkien.
P. Wetzel's new full-verse review:
Good, bad and in between.
I've read this thrice. Each time was nice.
The last, I must confess,
Is filtered through the story's new
If I could own one book alone
This treasure's what I'd choose;
But this critique shall also speak
Of things I wish he'd lose.
Foremost there is a Name of his
To which my fury delves:
" ... those creatures which in English I
misleadingly call 'Elves' ..."
This Tolkien quote was one he wrote
His self-confess'd linguistic mess
was published by his son.*
When Santa spoke of little folk
who help him make his rounds,
His voice recalls those Northern Halls
where proper Elves are found.
Full stop. 'Nuff said. Put that to bed.
For next I must despair:
Why'd he create a Lord of Hate
Who's peers don't seem to care?
Behind closed doors in Valinor
Aloof the Valar dwell,
While Sauron's powers seize the hour -
Rend Middle Earth to hell.
Perhaps a nice tell-tale device,
Perhaps a little more.
For there was strife in Tolkien's life:
He suffered loss in war.
One last dissent ere I relent:
Goldberry is her name.
Her vapid role, her empty soul
Could hardly be more lame.
But last and most, I rise to toast
This language lover's art:
No author herds his flock of words
More deftly to my heart!
- P. J. Wetzel, 2011
*Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien (1981) No. 131.