Shire Autumn

- Shelob

Pathways have turned dusty,
Maple trees to gold.
Oak leaves, crunching, rusty,
Frodo walks, feeling old.

Pumpkins orange in the field,
Tall grown stalks of corn.
Desparate not to yield,
Pain of knife, aching arm.

Dark thoughts of sadness,
Missing his old friend,
Heart full of gladness,
Oh, to see Bilbo again.

Leaves of color falling down,
Frosty ice in early morning,
Sunset guilding, trees of brown,
Hobbit's toes, campfire warming.

Sad dreams, shadows falling,
Black riders creep, snifing.
Sticky webs, evil spider crawling,
Gollum snarling, smoke drifting.

Elves whisper "come away, come away,"
Ships sail across oceans far.
Winds swirl misty grey,
Distant lands, a beckoning star.

Dawn's light, tis' time to go,
Parting from friends, beloved home.
Wishes that it were not so,
Cold wind, winter's snow, alone.