Bag End Lullaby


The Hill is quiet tonight
The flowers faces glow in the last rays
Of the retiring Sun
The nightbirds are singing softly
Cicadas droning among the leaves
The sky seems closer to the earth

Standing alone in the garden
Feel the head rising from below
Feet in the grass
My eyes uplifted to the hazy dome
Straining without focus
Until, at last, a tiny glimmer
Rewards my patient regard

There, low in the West, a star shines
And on my weathered, age-worn face
A smile Dawns

- Lothithil