serai

The other day, when I was driving home from work, I was ruminating on

singeaddams's hotmaking story The Field. Playing on my car's CD player was an album I hadn't heard in a long time, and had co-incidentally picked up at random that morning as I headed out to work – Jethro Tull's Songs From the Wood

Well, sir, all I can say is, if any of you hobbity writers are unfamiliar with this album, go get it now. It's all about country life, bracing air, horseback riding (both kinds), pagan rites, and best of all, lots of lovely sex!. I've never come across any "rock" music so completely in tune with Middle-Earth, at least as I like to view it.

So, I thought I'd post some of the lyrics as a possible source of inspiration to folks who write hobbit slash. Now, Ian Anderson (lead singer and flautist of JT) is writing about m/f sex, of course, and between us human types. But it doesn't take much effort to make the mental adjustments. Besides, the images are so lush and sexy…

This first one connects to The Field for me.

Velvet Green

Walking on velvet green
Scots pine growing
Isn't it rare to be taking the air?
Sinning, walking on velvet green

Walking on velvet green
Distant cows lowing
Never a care with your legs in the air
Loving, walking on velvet green

Won't you have my company?
Yes, take it in your hands
Go down on velvet green with a country man
Who's a young girl's fancy and an old maid's dream
Tell your mother that you walked all night
On velvet green

One dusky half hour's ride up to the North
There lies your reputation, all that you're worth
Where the scent of wild roses turns the milk to cream
Tell your mother that you walked all night
On velvet green

And the long grass blows in the evening cool
And August's rare delight may be April's fool
But think not of that, my love, I'm tight against the seam
And I'm growing up to meet you
Down on velvet green

Now I may tell you that it's love and not just lust
And if we live the lie, let's lie in trust
On golden daffodils to catch the silver stream
That washes out the wild oat seed
On velvet green

We'll dream as lovers under the stars
Of civilizations raging afar
And the ragged dawn breaks on your battle scars
As you walk home cold and alone
Upon velvet green

Walking on velvet green
Scots pine growing
Isn't it rare to be taking the air?
Sinning, walking on velvet green

Walking on velvet green
Distant cows lowing
Never a care with your legs in the air
Loving, walking on velvet green

This next song reminds me strongly of Pippin. A lot of that is owing to the flute riff in the break, so you'd have to hear the song to really get what I mean - it has a kind of wild, daring innocence. But some of it is in the lyrics, as well. I've always imagined Pippin becoming quite a rider after his adventures, and the song has a wonderful cantering-horse rhythm to it.

The Whistler

I'll buy you six bay mares to put in your stable
Six golden apples bought with my pay
I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune
But I must be gone by the seventh day

So come on, I'm the whistler
I have a fife and a drum to play
Get ready, look for the Whistler
I whistle along on the seventh day
Whistle along on the seventh day

All kinds of sadness I've left behind me
And many's the day when I have done wrong
But I'll be yours forever and ever
Climb in the saddle and whistle along

So come on, I'm the whistler
I have a fife and a drum to play
Get ready, look for the Whistler
I whistle along on the seventh day
Whistle along on the seventh day

Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places
Black are the nights on summer day sands
We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle
Hold the first grain of love in our hands

So come on, I'm the whistler
I have a fife and a drum to play
Get ready, look for the Whistler
I whistle along on the seventh day
Whistle along on the seventh day

Yuletide at Brandy Hall. The wonderful measured chaos of the dancing, feasting, flirting that a huge crowd of hobbits can do. This song put me in mind of Merry, both as a youngster, and as the proud and kindly Master of the Hall.

Ring Out, Solstice Bells

Now is the solstice of the year
Winter is a glad song that you hear
Seven maids move in seven-time
Have the lads up ready in a line

Ring out these bells
Ring out, ring solstice bells
Ring, solstice bells!

Join together neath the mistletoe
Find the holy oak whereon it grows
Seven druids dance in seven-time
Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming

Ring out those bells
Ring out, ring solstice bells
Ring, solstice bells!

Take me to the distant Sister Sun
Joyful as the silver planets run
Seven maids move in seven-time
Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming

Ring out these bells
Ring out, ring solstice bells
Ring, solstice bells!

Here I see Frodo, the endlessly fascinated reader of Elvish wisdom, dreamer of foreign lands and secrets, and later, the wise and sad traveller, who knows full well how the Cup is never filled.

Cup of Wonder

May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the hour?
But we accept your invitation and would bring you Beltane's flower
For the May Day is the great day sung along the old straight track
And those who ancient lines have laid will heed the song that calls them back

Pass the word and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom
Pass the cup of crimson wonder

Ask the Green Man where he comes from
Ask the cup that fills with red
Ask the old grey standing stones that show the sun his way to bed
Question all as to their ways and learn the secrets that they hold
Walk the lines of nature's palm crossed with silver and with gold

Pass the cup and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom
Pass the cup of crimson wonder

Join in black December's sadness, lie in August's welcome corn
Stir the cup that's ever filling with the blood of all that's born
For the May Day is the great day sung along the old straight track
And those who ancient lines have laid will heed the song that calls them back

Pass the word and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom
Pass the cup of crimson wonder

And last but never, never least is dear Sam. The tone of this song makes me think that Ian knows LOTR, because it's such a dead-on rendition of the feel of our Sam. The one he's thinking of could be either Frodo or Rosie, and I just love this song to pieces!

Fires at Midnight

I believe in fires at midnight
when the dogs have all been fed
A golden toddy on the mantel
A broken gun beneath the bed
Silken mist outside the window
Frogs and newts slip in the dark
Too much hurry ruins a body
I'll sit easy and fan the spark

Kindled by the dying embers
of another working day
Go upstairs, take off your makeup
Fold your clothes neatly away
Me, I'll sit and write this love song
as I all too seldom do
Build a little fire this midnight
It's good to be back home with you

So there you have it. A song for each of our lovely hobbits, and one for all of them. The rest of the album is just as lush and wonderful, and I can't recommend it enough.