Sam's Departure

It's twilight in the garden
That looks out upon the Shire.
Two aged brown eyes look out to see
Young hobbit-maids retire.
They take their sewing kits inside
And light a cheery fire.

The children beg to stay outside
And finish games they play.
"It's my turn to be Ringbearer, Tom!"
"No, it's my turn today!"
But mothers bid them come inside
And leave their cloaks of gray.

So little faces peer outside
Till fathers have returned.
A babe is set upon each knee--
A lesson must be learned.
Instead the young ones beg for tales:
"Tell of the Ring that burned!"

The brown eyes quickly turn away
For memories too strong
Have pierced his noble heart again.
The echo of a song
Bursts full into his mind. He sighs--
Alas, the days are long.

Tomorrow he'll set off at dawn,
One last journey to make.
He'll ride his pony to the docks,
And though his heart may break,
He leaves again to find a friend
Who's hand he's longed to take.

One last farewell, and then he's gone.
His daughter waves good-bye.
He turns away from child and Shire,
And, trying not to cry,
He sings a song learned long ago
And heaves a heavy sigh.

Elven ships are made to sail
Through seas of foggy rain.
Sam keeps these thoughts close to his heart
To block the stabbing pain
And doubt concerning "Should I go,
Or should I here remain?"

But ships sail on when tears are done
And doubting time is past.
He boards the elven ship and sails.
The die, for now, is cast.
He'll soon rejoice with absent friends--
At home and safe at last.

The smooth white ship pulls past the waves
To reach the "other side."
Standing alone and looking out,
Sam finds it hard to hide
Anticipation, love, and fear.
No, fear has never lied.

Yet now, as feet touch land again,
At last a story's told.
His master lies in Deathbed,
For his master has grown old.
Hurry, dear Sam, for he must see
His Sam before he's cold.

Sam rushes in, takes Frodo's hand
(so frail, he is in bed).
"I'm here at last, my master."
Bent and weeping, this he said.
"I'll be beside you till the end,
And even when you're dead."

"Come lay beside me, Samwise,"
Frodo whispered to his friend.
And Sam obeyed, as he would do
Until the very end.
"Our tales must wait until we have
More merriment to spend."

So in each other's arms they lay
With watchers standing by.
So moved were they to see such things,
They couldn't even cry.
They stood with agony in heart
And watched the Last Good-bye.

Two hands held tight, both lending strength
Until all strength was gone.
As both wore fleetingly away,
They whispered one last song.
"We'll meet again in better times
In fields of the bright Beyond."

Two tiny graves lie on the hill
And by one stone are shared.
The master and his servent
Deep into their doom had stared.
And both broke free, so to the end,
They stayed forever paired.