Poetry Contest Runner-up
LotR Object: Pippin's scarf
A scarf made with love from a mother to her lad
With warmth and affection, though feelings now are sad.
Far away from friend and kin where home's the sweetest place
This woven scarf of soft spun wool brings a smile to his face.
He's loved it. He's cherished it. He's worn it with pride
But now this small soldier must put it aside.
Tower guard in black armour, silver tree of a king
It's just a small hobbit scarf, not meant for big things.
There's no sun on his face. No long summers day
The old clothes have been folded. The scarf put away.
No more wind in his hair, no freedom to roam.
Take up the sword, " For The Shire!" The place he calls home.