The Trees, by a Hobbit

by Daenerys Stormborn   May 3, 2006

A Hobbit's Recount

**read rapidly, no breaks except to breathe!

They really are so beautiful
They're quite something to see
Tell me yes when I ask
Have you seen the trees?
Walking through the forest night
The moon shines bright, the only light
And through the branches leaves of green
There's something great that I have seen
A glow surreal
So warm to feel
A gentle soft sweet touch
Though not at home
I'm not alone
There's something, while not much
The arms of wisdom speak to me
The nests of sparrow's sing
And if there are no months to be
Each year will count one ring
I ask once more my friend of lore
Have you seen the trees?
If you have not, not once before
I'll fumble to my knees
And now you speak of words renown
A shock you bring to me!
You have not seen the trees indeed
Alas, the first I've found
Well time I have, yes time I'll spare
For such a humble deed
If you should care, I'll take you there
And plant perhaps a seed
Now take my hand and let's begin
It's not so long a journey
And slow we'll go, it's not a sin
Unless you hold a yearning
A walk through fire, a swim through air
A pleasure beyond my own compare
I cannot wait to see the trees
For waiting is an awful tease
Make haste, my friend, we're almost there
When we arrive, feel free to stare
There's one more bend to run around
It's time to show you what I've found
Though something seems a little strange
Like trees are further; out of range
I'm listening, but there's no sound
The noises of the trees have drowned
There's something wrong, this I can sense
The feeling's strong, it's so immense
The thought of what may come-unclear
And what may come, I greatly fear
But look I must, to clear such flurry
To purge me of this angst-ridden worry
Ah, alas, I see!
How awful can this image be
I see no green; but hated blue
Please tell me my eyes are untrue
The sky, so often beautiful
Now seems but just a gaping hole
This gaping hole, which once was full
Brings tears to my un-joyful soul
I long for this nightmare to end
But this bold truth I cannot bend
I'm sorry my unlucky friend
For your stolen time I cannot mend
Though before I put this to my past
There is one question I must ask
Who would commit this awful crime?
What beast or thing would spare the time?
The answer I may never find
I'm forced to put the past behind
Yet mourn I will, my friend, I swear
These trees, their beauty-oh' so rare
They lived for long; their lives still strong
They spoke to me; their words a song
I'll never forget the way they were
Though even now, they seem a blur
It's time to leave, dear friend, indeed
But first, perhaps...
I'll plant a seed


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