In Little Delving there lived alone
A little hobbit, in his little home
Being brave and bold, with fancy thoughts
A big adventure was what he sought.
One spring morning, under golden sun
He sprang out the door, and away did run
To Michel Delving, he soon arrived
A mighty town, it thronged and thrived
At the Bird and Baby, he drank an ale
Whilst a bearded longshanks told a tale
Of flowing fountains and golden trees
Of Fame and Fortune, found in Bree!
With drink all finished, he said goodbye
A dream of riches now in his eyes,
As whistling birds sat in the trees
He walked along in the morning breeze
The path he followed with rapid feet
He pattered on, until Waymeet
By carts and horses and cooking pots
He carried on, no time to stop
From road to fields, he made his way
By rows of taters, and stacks of hay
Then Hobbiton came into view
A homely time by a river blue
He lingered here as night did fall
Listening to crickets and owls call
At the Ivy Leaf he found a bed
With eyes so heavy, laid down his head
Cockerels crowed for a brand new day
Calling him down, and on his way
As bounders walked along the path
He bounced out the door, moving fast
He broke off to fish at Bywater lake
Breaking bits off carrot cake
But nothing bit the cake he crumbled
With nothing to catch, his belly rumbled
He hurried quickly, in no good mood
A hungry hobbit; in need of food
He turned off the path and into fog
Into Frogmorton; the Floating Log
His belly was filled by coney pie
And beer quenched his throat so dry
As croaking frogs leapt all around
He crept through marsh til a path he found
To Stock town, he came that day
Where stories read, whilst minstrels play
He lingered long in the market square
His life seemed to pass without a care
And the Brandywine he at last did see
But a bridge too far, it seemed to be
No more had he a burning desire
No more his dreams to leave the Shire
The treasure that is in far off lands
Is traded easily for ones close at hand
"To little Delving, I return", said he
"Life in the Shire is just right for me!"
