'Twas the Night Before the Seventeenth

'Twas the night before the 17th, and all through the house
Every creature was stirring and wanted to be out
The tickets were placed on the coffee table with care
With longings that morning would soon be there
All were snug in their beds, unable to sleep
And counting Nazgûl (they'd tried counting sheep)
Though wide awake, lost in a wondrous dream
Of all of the things they'd soon see on the screen!
Of Gondor and Ringwraiths and battles galore
And Sméagol; the Witch King; ships departing the shore
The Paths of the Dead and a really cool sword
And the final destruction of the nasty Ringlord
Nasty big spiderses, and also Mount Doom
Orcses and charges and cute horsies, too!
Rohan to the rescue as the rooster crows
And Umbar-ships that down the Anduin flow
Shieldmaidens, Nazgûl, and Merry as well
White Trees and banners and Beasts that are Fell
Weddings, coronations; return of lost Kings
Partings at Havens before Annie Lennox sings
And so everyone waits, watches the clocks tick
For everyone's longing to go out and see it
We've got boxes of chocolate to take to the theatre
And plenty of tissues to dry off our tears
Then we realise--oh no, this can't be the end!
No more LotR by PJ, Philippa, and Fran??
No more waiting and holding our breath
No more spoilers that give us no rest
No more long epics to count the days to
It's ended, it's done, it's finished, it's through!
Out come the tissues to quench our new tears
What will we do with ourselves in the coming years?
One answer presented, and it nicely solves this:
PJ, make The Hobbit, and do make it quick!!
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