The real story of Shadowfax

A small hobbit child walked out of the door
on her way to adventures, she wanted more.
Little brother, loving parents, home in her town,
but the suffocating boredom, it all made her frown.

Where were the trolls, orcs, horses and ents,
the wizards, giant spiders, the road's bends?
The stories of Gandalf played on in her mind,
inspired she thought: now thát's one of a kind!

Lying in her bed, blanket tucked up under her chin
she finally made way for the restlessness within
So on this early Thursday, backpack filled to the rim,
the girl slipped out of the door and disappeared into the dim.

Janaia was the name of this brave courageous heart,
curly hair, spirit so bright, a voice made to be a bard.
Sturdy legs swallowed miles, eyes sparkling like the sun,
when finally her parents woke, our adventuress was already gone.

The breeze tickled her cheeks and the girl laughed out loud,
auburn locks dancing around her ears, she looked very stout.
Once she glanced around, on the verge of leaving familiar trails,
But then, anticipation blossoming, she climbed over the rail.

Golden autumn fields beckoned her onwards, "Come child come,
you need to feel us, breath us, touch and walk upon us", they hummed.
The meadows rolled by gently, to be conquerred on foot
while a distant touch of mossy green indicated a dark wood.

Suddenly Janaia stopped, sounds of hoofs reaching her ear,
and into the brook she jumped, like a startled small deer.
Closer and closer the horse drummed, mouth covered with foam,
while carefully the hobbit peeped out, boots slipping in loam.

No rider nor sadle, not even a bridle to control nature's steed,
easy Janaia, she breathed softly, of his fear now take heed.
Softly her voice sang out to the frightened snowy white mount,
and his ears pricked forward, curious, one hoof still off the ground.

Arching neck, the grey snorted, ripples moving his muscles and coat,
and in that instant she was lost, on his beauty she was dote.
The hobbitgirl crawled up and stood still, eyes open wide,
waiting, her voice ever caressing, she took the first stride.

Enchanted by her voice, the grey waited eagerly for her soft hand
and with that touch she extended her trust, now and forever friend.
Magick sang loud while a small part of Middle-Earth held her breath,
a wondrous chance encounter, what guided her this day on her path?

All of her hopes and dreams seemed to come true, fulfilled in one glance,
the image of the white stallion, sunlit and steaming, a neverending dance.
"My Shadowfax," she whispered, tears glistening full of wonder,
"no one will come between us, nothing will be able to rip us asunder!"

Janaia slipped on to his back, sat up and then contented rode home
but ever since that day, horse and child, together the wilds they roam.
Exploring, searching, her wanderlust mirrored in the stallion's brown eyes,
stretching out to horizons afar, a horse and hobbit's paradise.

© MD