By Simbo Rumblebelly 

So open up the weathered little door 
The wooden beams reach to the creaking floor 
There lies inside a fading welcome mat 
And nearby is a stand to hang some hats 
 
Fine pictures line the narrow passageway
An aging clock that ticks the time each day
And vases full of roses, red and white
Beside the doorways leading left and right
 
A table, chairs all neatly put aside
A wooden chest, its secrets locked inside
A line of books all bound in coats of red
Await a time that they all may be read
 
A fireplace waiting patiently, a chance
To grow once more, and make its fiery dance
For silence seldom stalks inside the rooms
What flame inside will glow to clear the gloom?
 
For this is more than just an empty shell
Not just a house, not just a place to dwell
This place is more than pretty painted halls
What brings to life the home inside its walls?
 
It's not a home 'til someone steps inside
And throws the door, in greeting, open wide
You can't say welcome with a welcome mat
You'll need someone inside to take your hat!
 
An empty nest is just a mound of sticks
An empty house is just a stack of bricks
No magic ever weaves a life from stone
The Hobbit is what makes a burrow home

Some information about the artist:
Master Simbo is a famous poet around the Shire. When not preoccupied with collecting and eating pies, Master Simbo works on expanding his collection of self-written poems. He is a regular visitor of the Green Dragon, where on fridaynights he may be found willing to recite some of his work. Master Simbo is also a gifted musician and actor. He also is the initiator and promoter of synchronised dancing, giving classes and performances with his Dancing Troupe.