September 22nd

Poem By: Aria Breuer

Disclaimers: All material from The Lord of the Rings book trilogy belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. All original material belongs to the author of this fan fiction acrostic poem.

Since juggling with everything else, from school, homework, life, and stories, I jotted down and proofread this quick yet long acrostic poem. This is for Frodo and Bilbo Baggins, to celebrate both their birthdays which, coincidentally, fall on the exact same day. However, this poem is mainly on Frodo Baggins and his reactions to all that has happened to him so far. Fan reference might be included in this acrostic poem.

September 22nd: a day when Frodo Baggins celebrated his birthday with his Uncle Bilbo.

Esteemed was the celebration, but no one expected Bilbo to leave, not even for strudel.

Presents were handed out, as the wizard Gandalf the Grey lit his fireworks that sounded.

Too long had Bilbo waited for that night when he made his flight and left, abounded

Even Frodo did not expect his uncle to leave the Shire for Rivendell, but it did happen and he would soon follow.

Minded by Gandalf's words, Frodo prepared for the Quest to Mordor, leaving the Shire at midnight on his birthday.

Blissful was the walk, yet Frodo could have celebrated another Hundred-Weight Feast in stock.

Even after so many years, the trials and tribulations that Frodo went through on the quest proved perilous.

Ring-day had been set in his honor, though sometimes Frodo did not feel like a hero, but he wasn't careless.

Through it all, Frodo survived yet the wounds still hurt him, both body and mind.

Whether anyone wanted to believe he destroyed the One Ring, when really it was Gollum, remained to be seen.

Everything was set for another year, but the hero's welcome would be hard to suffice.

Not that anyone could see how much pain Frodo was in, for his fans seemed to worry about the day's strife.

Though the journey was rough, Frodo would have preferred the Shire-life, yet he knew he could no longer stay there.

Years of memories seemed to flood back in his thoughts, as long as he had his friends who cared.

Since time was moving quickly, would Frodo learn of the extent his fans took with their stories and poems?

Even if he did destroy the Ring, how much a hero could he prove, when his life was nearly stolen by the One Ring's power?

Careening towards the Undying Lands, Frodo did not stop thinking about his uncle, friends, and Sam.

Over time, Frodo would find himself still healing from the wraith wound, Shelob's venomous stab to his shoulder, and the burden he carried. So he swooned.

Never seeking any selfish acts, Frodo managed to come through as a Ring-bearer, while his uncle was the Ring-finder.

Day would be remembered as the Ring-day, but for Frodo it was just another memory growing tighter.