T'was the night before Christmas and all through the smail,
not a creature was stirring, except for a simple toy doll.

It's name was Thorin, named on a whim,
by a small faunt who loved and cherished him.

This was no chance, no frivolous folly,
it was a Christmas cheer that had awoken the dolly.

The maker deemed it right and merry,
for him to not wait, make hast not tarry.

So down the hall, ran the doll of a king;
his true love, his one, was waiting for him.

"Beloved, my burglar, open the door!"

"Nope, I shan't, I said tea was at four!"

"But tonight is the night I am aloud about!"

"Of fine!" He huffed "come in you great lout!"

The door swung open, to reveal the doll,
and bilbo wept for it was a false call.

The toy fell over, for the dawn had come,
Dear lord, why I write this? It's time for some rum.