By Ponso Pondhopper The other day I took a stroll, With no particular aim in mind. To pass some time, my only goal; Perhaps to see what I could find. Towards the Smials I set my feet; Followed the crag, beneath the trees. The sun shone brightly, what a treat! And on my face a cooling breeze. At copses' end, I took a right, And climbed the path with boulders strewn; Till Tuckborough hove into sight. I stopped to rest; 'twas nearly noon. My seat a stone, both wide and flat; On a branch above, a blackbird trilled, As in a reverie I sat; Its endless song my spirits filled. I thought of all the times I'd been Sat on this stone, beneath this tree. Of all the Shire sights I had seen, And wondered if there was more to see. And standing up, I spied a hill; A lonely tree upon its crown. I had the afternoon to kill, So from my rock I scrambled down. I said goodbye to the warbling bird; Strode off once more across the sward. The blackbird's song still plainly heard; It's daring notes that thrilled and soared. To my left, Great Willow, feet in mire; To my right, a clump of silver birch. I climbed the rise, onward and higher, Determined in my dogged search. And topping the ridge I saw the mound; Encircled by a ring of stone. Around its foot, a cart track wound, And on its top, a tree, alone. I scrambled down and crossed the lane; And now the hill looked tall and bare. My attempts to climb it were in vain; No easy footholds anywhere! But where's there's a will', my Dad would say, 'There's also a way, it can't be denied'; Determined was I to find the way, And thought to try the other side. I circled the base along the cliff; The ground rose steeply by its side. My legs grew tired, my back was stiff, As I searched for the path as yet untried. And then at last I found the way; A grassy slope that smoothed the rise. I scrambled up there straight away, And what a view to meet my eyes! Beneath my feet, the Farthing Stone, Bywater beyond and Hobbiton Bridge; The Party Tree, bedecked, alone, And further on, The Hill's green ridge. Here was a sight I'd never seen, Bindbole wood in midday haze; The distant Box Hills, blue and green. More glorious view ne'er met my gaze! So here I sat an hour, enthralled, Watching the Water far below; As through its vale it wound and sprawled. I really didn't want to go. But time, it's said, will never wait For Hobbit, man or dwarf and elf; The sun was dipping; it was late, I woke from my daydream, shook myself. I took a final look around, And with a heavy heart, descended. I followed the path that turned and wound; Another exploration ended. Odd that until this day I'd never Climbed this hill, nor seen this sight; Worth every ounce of my endeavour. Inspiring view, a rare delight. I headed home with sprightly gait; The setting sun, low, in my eyes. I didn't mind that it was late, Not after winning such a prize! |
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