Other Stories by Pipkin Sweetgrass

The Bee Charmer

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Other Stories by Pipkin Sweetgrass

Marigold gave me this for Flying Dreams and Coffee

From her, it's a wonderful gift...thanks, Marigold!

Middle Earth Fanfiction Award Nomination

for Flying Dreams and Coffee

Flying Dreams and Coffee is a story I was inspired to write after a play session with my grandchild, Taylor. I was lying on my back with my feet in the air as she pretended to fly by lying on her belly, supported by my feet, her little arms outstetched as if flying. The title was inspired by my dear friend Pearl Took, an exellent writer and a good, good friend. You can find Flying Dreams and Coffee at my profile page at fanfiction.net, or you can click the illustration, which I drew on my computer. Please don't use it without my permission.

Flying Dreams and Coffee

One night on watch, Boromir and Pippin discover they are more like than different.

This meant so much to me!

Marigold gave me this for Theif of Hearts

Middle Earth Fanfiction Nominated

Theif of Hearts

"Where did I come from?" said the story.

"Oh, you were born long ago and far away," I say.

"Long ago?"

"Yes, so you know it really happened."

"Far away?"

"Yes, sweetie, a long, long way away, back in the Land of billyboyd.net. I'm not your mother, though, at least not your only mother. You have many mothers: Pearl Took and UofJC, lost sailors and tookishgirl, palantir and herald7, sweetie and elrawien, and of course, crankyoldelf... and so many others. You were born in the Lesser Smials, in a thread called Ernil i Pheriannath. We were discussing the darker and more serious side of Pippin, and before we knew it, why there you were, our own little one, our baby. Your father is, of course, JRR Tolkien, but you have two wonderful godfathers: Billy Boyd and Pete Jackson. And you have an uncle named Stewart."

"My goodness, but I have a big family, Mum!"

"Yes, my darling little one. But now it is time to share you with others. It'll be fun, you'll enjoy it."

"Very well, then, Mum."

The little story looks at the reader with wide, green eyes, inviting the viewer to click on the image.

(The artwork is based on a black and white sketch done by lost sailors after she read the story.)

Theif of Hearts: How Pippin Stole Merry's Heart

click the pic to read the fic! It was a Marigold's Pick!

The Immortal Ernil Thread Archive from the legendary Land of billyboyd.net!

This tale of the supernatural was written for a Marigold's Challenge. When the remaining members of the Fellowship return to Minas Tirith for the unveiling of a monument to Boromir, Merry, Pippin and Faramir experience a ghostly encounter, and are reminded that Boromir was much more than a soldier's hero, and that duty is just another word for love.

In the Shadow of His Blade

written for a Marigold's Challenge, click the pic to read the fic!

Mefa 2006 Nominated for poetry

The Eyes of Boromir

The tune you are hearing is called Skibbereen. My poem, below, can be sung to it. I hope you enjoy it.

The Eyes of Boromir

I am a simple village girl, my home, to Gondor near,

And in the third age, thirty-nineteen, late that very year,

There came a soldier through our town,

My heart's bane, I do fear,

He was the Tower Captain, and his name was Boromir.

He came into the village inn to slake his thirst with beer,

And I was but a serving-wench, a poor lass I do fear,

I brought his ale to slake his thirst, and met my doom, I fear,

For when he looked into my eyes, I fell for Boromir.

O Boromir, O Boromir, can your bright eyes not see?

Though I am but a serving-wench, you're everything to me,

And I cannot forget him, and my soul counts every tear,

I know his heart's not mine, but my heart's owned by Boromir.

His face, so fair, his eyes, so bright, his smell as I drew near,

It was the smell of leather and of rain and air so clear,

His hands were rough, his face, it showed care far beyond his year,

And I could drown just looking in the eyes of Boromir.

Soon he was gone a-wandering, by mountain and by mere,

More than a hundred days, they say, he wandered far from here,

The Dark Time, it was coming, and our hearts did quail with fear,

And all our hope for life and limb did lay with Boromir.

O Boromir, O Boromir, can your bright eyes not see?

Though I am but a serving-wench, you're everything to me,

And I cannot forget him, and my soul counts every tear,

I know his heart's not mine, but my heart's owned by Boromir.

It was on the river Anduin, at Parth Galen, I hear,

That Evil came to tempt his soul , his brave heart to draw near,

Then mustering his noble soul, as his bane came to bear,

All filled with black orc arrows was the heart of Boromir.

His brave heart filled with arrows, my own with sorrow dear,

I wander now around the walls of Gondor white and fair,

And in the golden sunlight, I can scarce believe my ear,

The Great Horn of that city, sounded by my Boromir.

O Boromir, O Boromir, your bright eyes no more see?

Though I am but a serving-wench, you're everything to me,

And I cannot forget him, and my soul counts every tear,

I know his heart's not mine, but my heart's owned by Boromir

And now I've made my sojourn, my destination, near,

I lay me down by Anduin, and dry my last sad tear,

I leap into the waters, for I must to him be near,

I go to join my darling one, beautiful Boromir.

O Boromir, O Boromir, your bright eyes no more see?

Though I am but a serving-wench, you're everything to me,

And I cannot forget him, and my soul counts every tear,

I know his heart's not mine, but my heart's owned by Boromir.

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