Was there a woman waiting
For Boromir to return
Pacing the walls of the City
For him a heart that yearned?
Was there a touching last goodbye
Between the Captain and his girl
Or did he leave without a trace
Off in the big, wide world?
Was there a broken heart that cried
Each day that he was gone
Wondering where and how he was
Trying to hold on?
Was there a woman mending
The clothes he last did wear
Awaiting the day he would return
And put flowers in her hair?
Was there a figure in his thoughts
Each day and every night
A woman, tall and proud as he
For him a guiding light?
Was there a keepsake held by both
A small and precious thing
A reminder of their plighted troth
A brooch, kerchief or ring?
Was there a woman weeping
When Boromir did not come
When his horn and shield and boat
Drifted on the foam?