Dream a Little Dream

Bilbo sits upon his chair,

Having had a second tea.

His body old, and torn and frayed,

Yet inside his mind is free.

…

He dreams of dwarf and wizard friends,

He dreams of pony mounts.

He dreams of groups of hungry trolls,

And more trials to surmount.

…

He dreams of blades from Gondolin,

He dreams of Rivendell.

He dreams of mountains, storms and giants,

He dreams of goblins fel.

…

He dreams of riddles in the dark,

He dreams of cloudy sky.

He dreams of fire, wolves and orcs,

He dreams of eagles high.

…

He dreams of Beorn, honey bees,

He dreams of Mirkwood's paths.

He dreams of forest spiders many,

Of darkened shadows cast.

…

He dreams of Wood Elves and their cells,

He dreams of running river.

He dreams of Lake-town, winter's touch,

With sense of dread he shivers.

…

He dreams of mountain standing lonely,

He dreams of secret door.

He dreams of entering Smaug's lair,

Of gold coin-covered floor.

…

He dreams of Smaug the Terrible,

He dreams of dragon fire.

He dreams of watching Lake-town burn,

Suffering Smaug's ire.

…

He dreams of Thorin changed for worse,

He dreams of armies five.

He dreams of battle for the North,

A fight to stay alive.

…

He dreams of fond farewells spoken,

He dreams of heavy load.

He dreams of making journey home,

Upon ever-winding road.

…

And then, at last, the dream it ends,

He's gone there and back again.

Something urges a return,

Yet part of him refrains.

…

But he's home with his possessions,

Gold, mithril and Sting.

And of course his greatest prize,

A precious golden ring…