Seasons

I sit beside the fire and think

Of all that I have seen

Of meadow flowers and butterflies

In summers that have been

 

Of yellow leaves and gossamer

In autumns that there were

With morning mist and silver sun

And wind upon my hair

 

I sit beside the fire and think

Of how the world will be

When winter comes without a spring

That I shall ever see

 

For still there are so many things

That I have never seen

In every wood in every spring

There is a different green

 

I sit beside the fire and think

Of people long ago

And people that will see a world

That I shall never know

 

But all the while I sit and think

Of times there were before

I listen for returning feet

And voices at the door.

 

― J.R.R. Tolkien

Done