what ought to happen

within the forest are no magic folk
we walk for hours and find no sign of elves
only the sounds of leaves and the odd croak

rain makes the past into the humus soak
more than bent backs reward the one who delves
within the forest are no magic folk

you'll soon turn out an ordinary bloke
no magic axe-heads will fly off the helves
only the sounds of leaves and the odd croak

no númenor nor wizard isle of roke
just the plain schools for ordinary selves
within the forest are no magic folk

we may incant and the dim fires stoke
but have no means of transcending ourselves
only the sounds of leaves and the odd croak

and so each head will bend under the yoke
the mystic trees turn into walls and shelves
within the forest are no magic folk
only the sound of leaves and the odd croak