Moss covered home, formed from a
tree, with door and windows three,
Set my mind to wondering, “Just whose home
could this be?”
A hobbit might be happy here; t’would suit him to a
The door is rather short for me, but hobbits are quite
Creeping closer, through the window, a warm and welcome
Revealed to me, a room, rough-hewn, but warm and hobbit right!
he rests his hairy feet, upon the hassock there,
That’s pulled up, comfy and
quite close, before his rocking chair.
A pipe I see, with pipe-stem chewed a
bit, but still a dandy,
That’s kept within a hobbit’s reach, to always be quite
I bet he blows smoke rings aloft, and thinks his secret thoughts.
so drawn to go within, but know that I ought not.
He might not like me spying
here, so I’ll be on my way,
But oh, such curiosity will join me all this day!
Donna L. Ferguson Dudley
Where Magic Lives: Poems of Fairies and Fancy by Donna Ferguson Dudley is available on Kindle at Amazon.com