hobbits

A minstrel sat by an apple tree
And played out softly melodies
Whilst busy hobbits passed him by
With scarce a glance from out their eyes
Too quick to note his smart green suit
Or hear the tunes flow from his lute
Or listen to his telling words
The only audience, the birds

Who made the Pie?

Who ploughed up the field?
Who planted the seed?
Who scared off the crows?
Who dug up the weeds?
And when harvest came
Who cut down the corn
And ground it to flour
From dusk until dawn?

Who raised all the cattle
From calf until cow?
Who tended the pigs
From piglet to sow?
Who made them a shelter
From rain and from heat?
Who sold them at market
Their milk and the meat?

Dancing in the daisies
Swaying like the flowers
We can spend the evening
Dancing round for hours
Lasses are a-leaping
Daisies in their hair
Petals fall like snowflakes
Floating on the air

Sitting in the sunshine
Making daisy chains
Hoping that our smiles
Keeps away the rain
Picking at the petals
Counting one, two, three
Counting down the minutes
Til its time for tea