They’re leaning on the garden gate,
The hollyhocks stand tall.
Summer light is fading fast –
He’s fading most of all.
I cannot ease his burden,
I cannot heal his grief.
My Sam is wise and sturdy
And brings him some relief.
But the children soothe his tempest
And their voices still the sound
Of ever-golden darkness,
Desperation lost and found.
So Frodo-lad and Elanor
Are waiting by his chair.
Their eyes are bright with stories
Wondrous tales he’s told them there.
He’s turning now; the light is gone
And night is in his face.
But the wee ones are his morning
And their love his healing grace.