a poem by Frodo
I hear the inviting song
September teases me to travel:
"Come down the Road that winds along
I am a mystery to unravel!"
In autumn afternoons, summer is remembered,
Though the fields have long ago been gathered.
Scarecrows glower over cornstalks dismembered,
But the feasting birds cannot be bothered.
I promised myself that I would escape
To go to all those wonderous places,
And compare my inner landscapes,
To give the names I've learned their true faces.
Though softly the Road calls to me,
The Shire sings louder yet and sweet;
In this early Autumn's changing beauty,
I'll not yet ease my itching feet.