On The Death of Christopher Tolkien and His Return to the Shire of Shires

I saw Eternity the other night,
like a great ring of pure and endless light.,,
Henry Vaughn, The World


what do I know of hobbits on my own
I never could get past their pantries and
the delicious feeling of being home forever

after hundreds of years under a turfy dome.
and second breakfasts suited me
not wandering.

not one for venturing
not even in Tolkien's tomes too much
I wanted to know I guess

I had never finished them that the lay of that land
lay still before me near at hand
and I  could take the little footpaths

whenever I chose. savoring a hobbit rose or two in an
industriously cheerfully worked garden or so.
as a way perhaps to stay here longer in my own shire laughing

to have a reason to stay

so I could say when the angels show up some day
Look, look where the bookmark is.
Just leave me here

from year to year and wont you have some second breakfast
or three or four.
I didnt like Gollum

and I would have preferred
to hear from friends how it all came out
to know the Riders from a distance.

but now the last emissary is gone.
and suddenly I want to learn every silver sylvan song
on the pages left the passageways to

that wholly invented world and creep.even to the ravines.
the Misty Mountains misted more now
and regret spills over into the terra incognitas.

of my sleep and deep and deeper dreams

weep on. still woven though the weavers are gone

and yet let Spring time bud at such reunions
peremptorily envisioned. and all the stars in Henry Vaughn's ring too
sing and sing for Christopher and his father and all lore

the ring of eternity the ring of Divine Love moves ever on though
that harvest of such stories now is done.

mary angela douglas 17 january 2020