Pipe Poems: The Dream

The Dream
As I lay my head back, spent from the day
My eyelids grow heavy, in an unusual way
Too tired to fight it, this tugging it seems
My body goes limp, as I drift off to dream

But soon I hear popping, as if there’s a fire
I open my eyes, just a bit to inquire
My eyes have deceived me, for this cannot be
A mantle, a curved room and much more to see

Dark wooden beams, with an intricate feel
A single hinged door, this all seems so real
The cool of the stone, the heat from the fire
My thoughts are confirmed, that this is the Shire

“Welcome to Bagend, where your comfort is key”
Gandalf says, while he’s winking at me
There’s Frodo and Sam and Pippen and Merry
Who’s bowl I can see, is red as a cherry

Thorin and Gimlee set next to the fire
With Aregorn standing in ranger attire
Legolas sits with his feet on a stool
Tom Bumbadil dances around like a fool

And others were there, too many to name
Yet the hobbit hole seemed, exactly the same
A small little home, how could this be
Plenty of leg room even for me

I sit there in awe, and some disbelief
As Gandalf leans over, and hands me some leaf
I don’t miss a beat, in my warden it goes
I light up my pipe,as the scent hits my nose

Everything fades, in a good sort of way
As I draw on my pipe, and the flavors give way
From South Farthing this treasure, was grown just for me
To enjoy so immensely, my worries to flee

As the scene I beheld, removed my last care
A new sound arises, and messages the air
Old songs of adventure and treasures and lore
Sung with such base it rattled the floor

Greater treasures I know, only Heaven will hold
When the songs, the flavors, and the company of old
Merge to take over, the darkest of night
To lift weary spirits, and set them aright

And after what seemed, like hours to me
The song slowly fades, and so does the leaf
I realize my eyes have been closed for a while
As they open again, this time with a smile

But I find I am back, in my room as it were
Rested and warmed, the night such a blur
I sit up and wonder, could it really have been
A visit? The Shire? There and back once again?
And as I rise from my bed, complete from my rest
I reach down to brush off, the ash from my chest