[Child of the 7th Age]

The last time I reread the book, which was right after I saw the movie, I felt so shut out from the magic that I sat down in frustration and wrote this poem. It's not a great poem, but it tells exactly how I felt.

Colours of Middle-earth

A world I've never seen holds me dear,
Something from beyond etched in grey,
I stand as exile on a distant shore,
With small hope to guide my way.

I smell the sweet brown loam of the Shire,
I am certain of the round green door,
I can sense the rhythm of the great Red Book,
Whose tales I long to explore.

The soft yellow of elanor,
The pale gold of a mallorn tree,
Mist of silver on mountains high,
These still cry out to me.

Something in me belongs back there,
But I can not get through,
Something in me needs the colours of that world,
Which hold so clear and true.

But, as my eyes raise up,
To catch its rainbow dawn,
I blink, I turn, and, in a glance,
Its colours soon are gone.

And I am left behind,
With faded grey and white,
Memories of my mythic past,
Locked in a mirror of light.


sharon, the 7th age hobbit