The wisps of dreams stole silently,
Fell eerily in autumn’s sheen
With leaves and mists and moonbeams crept
While waiting in the Shire.
The pipe the song that he would share
His life enjoyed with nary a care.
He lingered there in tranquil ways
Filling his life in the Shire
The silent hobbit with great bright eyes
Would humble there as they would smile
With hands outstretched to take him there and
Bid him leave the Shire.
The day long past had come at last
Had chastened him, had hastened him.
The world’s woe had grown a din and
Forced him to leave the Shire.
The Ring he bore with no mean thought
Would taunt and haunt and him ensnare.
The task he took would lay him bare
‘Til he forgot the Shire.
The wisps of dreams they plagued him still.
Tho’ he’d returned, the cost was ill;
His mind was rent, his life was spent.
He needed to leave the Shire.
The Havens Grey and dark as day
The rain it fell; the tears did swell.
With friends he parted. It was time he started
And they returned to the Shire.
‘Til on a night when rain had passed
He beheld the shore he’d dreamt at last
And white they were and green beyond
More beautiful than the Shire.
The wisps of dreams did take him there
The rest of all did wait him.
He would find the peace for which he longed
More blessed than in the Shire.