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© 2010 Festival in the Shire Journal. All rights reserved.

Sarehole dreams
(Tom Bombadil alive and well)

Jodi Storer

The old forest comes alive:
Willow, barrow and other perils to fear.
A mythical land from bygone years,
inspiring Middle-earth dreams and legendary schemes,
Of honour, glory and a daring quest;
With old Tom, watcher of leaf and tree, coming out best.

Is this Tom now, striding from the woods?
No mud, no rain, no mark on him at all.
Only bright yellow, blue and green, walking so tall,
A song in his heart, goodness all around.
I feel my soul lifting right up into the misty sky.
Soaring high over rain clouds to a faraway world,
With elves and dragons; goblins, wizards too,
Casting not one glance at man’s hullabaloo.

I don’t want to leave.
The Shire, here and now, is where I long to be.
Can I linger forever to let my mind see
The essence of beauty in these pathways of green?
Well, maybe not, but I'll be back some day
Just to see if Tom still goes on his merry, carefree way.

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