I love the autumn in the Shire
The air is crisp, the sun still high
Not much is left to be desired
The harvest in, there is much pie.
Then winter descends on the Shire
It is right cold, you can see far
The snow-clad meadows we admire
Then drink hot tea - how blessed we are!
And when the spring comes to the Shire
The branches thawed, all's green with sprouts
The sight, it lifts the spirit higher
"It's good to live!" the soul will shout.
And now it's summer in the Shire
An idle time, not much to do
So we all gather round a fire
Bring lots to eat, pie, cakes and stew.
Thus all the seasons of the Shire
Have their own charm and bring us fun
As does this picnic, no more desire
Is left to crave, our work is done.
Written for this year's Grand Summer Picnic in the Shire.
