The Morning After

My dishes are chip’d.
The rowdy party is done.
Hey! Next time, no dwarves.

Mission Impossible

To misty mountains,
With caverns deep, dragon-bound.
It’s far, but gold calls.

The Barrel Ride

Down the swift dark stream,
Seek the sunlight and the day.
My barrel butt’s wet.

Cracking the Riddle

Box without hinges,
Golden treasure gleams inside.
Omelet, anyone?

The Vapours of Smaug

Slumbering serpent,
Red-gold scales, a wisp of steam.
Bad case of dragon breath!

How Much Would You Pay?

Spiders fear its sting.
The elf sword is ever-sharp.
Wait, there’s more. Call now!