There once lived a very small hobbit
Mortimer was his name
And pick pocketing was his game
Each day he would climb from pocket to pocket
Finding some treasures big and grand like a locket
But some days they were nothing more than lame
This next thing the pick pocketer found gave him great fame
It was small but powerful just like him; this new finding was a rocket
He got on his flying gear and began to takeoff; he would be the first ever hobbit to make it to the top of the cherry tree
Hobbits from far and near came to witness the exciting event
Off he went as the crowd cheered; he made it to the top and the cherries flew down to the ground
After all these years they could finally make some cherry tea
As happy as they were, Mortimer was not; for he had crushed his house with a cherry and now had to live in a tent
In the end the people rejoiced but Mortimer’s fame was over and it was now time for him to move homeward bound