If I Wrote the Poems, Part 1 - "The Riddle of Strider" by Ruth R.R. Tolkien

The Riddle of Strider by Ruth R.R. Tolkien
All that is cold is not bitterNot all the condors are lost The old and confused often dither Teeth roots are not touched by the floss
The silence at last shall be brokenA tiny white rabbit shall sing Set fire to the bed you awoke in The soundless Big Ben shall then ring
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Click Here to read the original poem,
which is supposedly "objectively better" or whatever,
and tune in next week for Part 2 in the series.

I have great pl...