The First Night
By Talking Hawk
Author's Note: Due to the wonderful response of "My Light is Gone," I decided to write another poem. I have always been intrigued about Frodo's reaction to Bilbo leaving, but sadly, his grief isn't fully described either in the book or the movie. So, here I am, trying to fill in the gaps once more. I hope you enjoy! (P.S. If you have the Pearl Harbor CD, start playing it at song two. It'll really add to the effect.)
A wink, a crackle and a spark, and he is gone
Gone just like that. . .
Like he had never been there at all
The people here do not understand,
And run about, shouting and screaming
In my own heart, I feel no panic
But emptiness alone
They cry out, "Bilbo, Bilbo! O please, come back!"
Their cries are futile, for he is already gone
But my heart pays no heed
And cries along with them
Bilbo, Bilbo, return, return!
What am I to do without you?
I have a home, yes, and
Food for my belly
But what is life without love?
Friendship?
Security?
You?
A light touch upon the shoulder,
And I let out a small gasp, surprised
It is Fredagar, Fatty, my friend. . .
"You should go now," he whispers, foreboding in his voice
He glances up, and I follow his gaze
It is the Sackville-Bagginses, arguing with one another
Upon who should be the first to ask for Bag End's keys
Though I am the rightful heir
Narrowing my eyes, I give a nod of my head
And make my way through the crowd
But then I stop at a sound that stills my heart
A woman. . .weeping. . .
I look about, mine eyes searching desperately
For the sole griever
And then I find her, standing alone,
A wet handkerchief hanging from her clenched hand
The hand almost as white as the handkerchief
"O, Bilbo, Bilbo!" she cried out
Her voice was that of old Mistress Daffodil
A long-time friend of my uncle's
Her shouts were no louder than the others,
Their youth making up for their lack of feeling,
But her words echoed in my heart
"He's gone, he's gone!" she said
"What am I to do?
Who is to help me move the milk cans
From the barn to the road?
Poor, dear Bilbo! Gone, gone is he!"
Pity welling up within me, I approached
The woman and touched her elbow
"Please do not weep, kind woman
I will take my uncle's place, and
Help you with your chores
No trouble it is for me."
Her lips parted, absorbing this information
"Why. . .I can't thank you enough,"
She finally said, a slight smile appearing
"You're just like your dear uncle -
Kind and generous."
I froze, and the pat she gave my shoulder
As she departed felt icy to the touch
'Just like your dear uncle. . .'
These words haunting me, I left for home
* * *
My thoughts drifted back to the first night. . . The first night that my heart knew what grief really was
It was raining that night, the moon frightened away
The stars blanketed by the storm clouds
They had gone.swallowed by the river's angry mouth
Forever to have their lungs filled with that life-giving water
I sat at the window, looking out into the storm
And finally breaking down in tears
I knew, in my heart, that they were in some better place
Merry and joyful at their returning to the Creator
But, still. . .
Why could I not be with them?
I sat there for many hours
My tears my only consolation
Finally, sleep took hold of me
And would not let go
My eyes beginning to flutter shut,
I felt two strong arms wrap about me
And I slumped into the warm chest
A pillow for my misery
Knowing who it was, I spoke,
"Bilbo. . ."
"Hm?" came the gentle reply, a cradle for my woes
"Are they.are they really gone?"
I looked up, and gazed into his soft eyes
Though they were mixed with curiosity,
But then, discernment
"Gone? Never will they be, my lad.
They will always be here with you. . .
Even unto the end of your days. . ."
I felt my eyes wax over with new tears
"Will I. . .ever see them again?
Or will I only be able to visit them in my dreams?"
It took him awhile to answer,
A strange sound coming from his lips
When he spoke
"Yes. . .yes, you will.
And happy will you be,
And happy will they be. . ."
He paused, thinking a bit.
"You know, lad. . .that my parents are gone too."
I jerked into full wakefulness
"But you. . .you said that they'd never leave!"
He turned to gaze back into my eyes,
Wisdom glittering in them,
As though he were telling one of his old tales again
"They never will, lad. . .
They're here with me, right now
And with you too."
I looked about the room,
My hands lying against his shirt
As though begging for an answer
That I was not sure would ever come
"But where ARE they?"
A soft smile crossed his lips,
His eyes twinkling again
"Aye, the only place us mortals can live forever. . ."
I looked up at him, waiting. . .
Waiting for my answer. . .
"Your heart, my boy. They're in your heart. No matter what you do, lad, they'll never go away. Not unless you let 'em."
A cold splatter touched my arm,
And my emotions racking my soul,
I burst into tears and wrapped my arms about his neck
"I'll never let them, Bilbo! Never!"
A tender pat on the back
"I believe you, boy. . . Don't worry, I believe you."
* * *
The first night at Bag-End
The furthest I've ever been
From everything I knew. . .
Except Bilbo
I tossed and turned in the bed all night
Remembering that boat. . .
That cursed boat. . .
The Brandywine swallowed them up. . .
Just an accident, just an accident, they said. . .
A knock at the door
"May I come in?"
I was turned so that my back faced him
"If I don't let you," I choke-sobbed,
"Will you go away?"
"Well," he started uneasily,
"Depends on how you say it. . .
If I can tell that you really want me to go away,
I will
But if I think that you need me
Perhaps just as much as I need you. . .
I don't think I will."
A silent tear slid down my cheek
"Will you go away like They did?
Leaving me like They did?"
The contempt in my tone did not vanish
"Will you. . .will you. . ."
I could not say "They" again
Hot tears spilled down my face
A pair of arms wrapped about me,
Picking me up and holding me
Cradling me. . .
It is all too familiar for me not to cry once more
Wanting my mother, wanting my father. . .
Wanting to be a child again
Just so then I could see their faces again
A kiss upon my forehead
So much like my mother,
But yet. . .
Not
"I'll never leave you, lad,"
He whispered
"You know that."
I clutched his shirt with one hand
Bringing myself in to place my face
Into his shirt,
So that my sobs might be comforted
"I-I know!" I finally whimper
My face feeling hot and red
Like a burn, leaving a scar that would never go away. . .
"B-but. . .it still. . ."
"Hurts?" he offered, brushing the curls
Out of my face
Closing my eyes, I meekly nod
"They'll never leave you. . ." he insisted
But his promise fell upon deaf ears
"But then why did they?" I scoff harshly
"And if they really WERE still here. . .
How come. . ."
I looked away, peering out the window
No rain. . .
"How come do I feel so alone?"
He didn't answer
* * *
The first night, alone
Just like before. . .
Oh, Bilbo? I wonder
Why did you leave me?
Leave me to go to a better place
Wherest I cannot be?
Gandalf hast gone, and the house is empty
Once more
The shadows my only friends
But wait. . .
Did I see one move?
No, can't be. . .
I go into the living room
Returning to my gloomy thoughts
Taking seat upon a couch fine
I curled up my knees to my chest
My arms wrapped about them in the embrace
I wished to have
Alone, alone once more. . .
The first night I have Bag-End to myself,
Its new master
How, what kind of a master can I be?
Bilbo knew how to run things,
How to make everything come out right,
How to.how to do everything that I could not
I sigh deeply, placing my cheek upon my knee
The Gaffer is still the gardener - what shall I pay him?
Oh, I suppose he will tell me what his wage is. . .
Always so honest. . .
But what about my other dealings?
How might I handle them?
Bilbo returns to mind
Why can't I drive him away, even when he is
Already gone?
Every breath, every flinch
Reminds me of him
Why did he have to do this to me. . .
A sob creeps on out of my throat
And almost at the same time, I hear a lamp knock over
Startled, I look up
Fear and courage mixed into my tone
"Who goes there!" I cried out as bravely as I could
"I am the master of Bag-End, and I will have no thieves
In my house on this night!
Be gone, I say!"
No reply at first
Only the breeze coming in through an open window
Finally, a hunched back rises up from behind a small desk
Sitting up on his knees, he places his hands upon it for support
"It's me. . ." the form whispers
"Just me, Sam Gamgee. . ."
Never could I have been happier to hear that name
A fresh sob makes its way out of my throat,
And I slap a hand over my mouth, thoroughly embarrassed
In the moonlight, I could see the gardener's son frown
"If you don't want me here, I'll just leave, if you want me to, sir. . ."
"No, please!" I find myself crying out, a begging arm extended
His eyes widen in surprise, and I shamefully curl my arm
Back into my lap
"Please. . ." I whisper, "stay with me. . ."
He stares at me a moment, then gives a slight nod of his head
He sits down on the couch next to me, and I find myself
Twiddling my thumbs
Trying to organize my thoughts
For the listening ears that awaited my words
"I. . ." I said, as though in a daze
I looked up at nothing in particular
"I just thought he'd never leave me, that's all. . ."
Silence was my reply
Slowly, I turned so that his eyes
Met mine
"Sam. . ."
"Yes?"
"Will you ever. . .leave me?"
He blinks, clearly taken aback
"Well, sir, I'd be more a-worried
'Bout you leavin' ME. . ."
"Answer my question, please. . ." I whispered
My heart fearing it might be broken for a third time
I gazed into my eyes for a moment,
The brown in his eyes shimmering for a moment,
Considering, thinking. . .
But, then, I already knew the answer
* "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to. . . *
* I don't mean to. . . *
By Talking Hawk
Author's Note: Due to the wonderful response of "My Light is Gone," I decided to write another poem. I have always been intrigued about Frodo's reaction to Bilbo leaving, but sadly, his grief isn't fully described either in the book or the movie. So, here I am, trying to fill in the gaps once more. I hope you enjoy! (P.S. If you have the Pearl Harbor CD, start playing it at song two. It'll really add to the effect.)
A wink, a crackle and a spark, and he is gone
Gone just like that. . .
Like he had never been there at all
The people here do not understand,
And run about, shouting and screaming
In my own heart, I feel no panic
But emptiness alone
They cry out, "Bilbo, Bilbo! O please, come back!"
Their cries are futile, for he is already gone
But my heart pays no heed
And cries along with them
Bilbo, Bilbo, return, return!
What am I to do without you?
I have a home, yes, and
Food for my belly
But what is life without love?
Friendship?
Security?
You?
A light touch upon the shoulder,
And I let out a small gasp, surprised
It is Fredagar, Fatty, my friend. . .
"You should go now," he whispers, foreboding in his voice
He glances up, and I follow his gaze
It is the Sackville-Bagginses, arguing with one another
Upon who should be the first to ask for Bag End's keys
Though I am the rightful heir
Narrowing my eyes, I give a nod of my head
And make my way through the crowd
But then I stop at a sound that stills my heart
A woman. . .weeping. . .
I look about, mine eyes searching desperately
For the sole griever
And then I find her, standing alone,
A wet handkerchief hanging from her clenched hand
The hand almost as white as the handkerchief
"O, Bilbo, Bilbo!" she cried out
Her voice was that of old Mistress Daffodil
A long-time friend of my uncle's
Her shouts were no louder than the others,
Their youth making up for their lack of feeling,
But her words echoed in my heart
"He's gone, he's gone!" she said
"What am I to do?
Who is to help me move the milk cans
From the barn to the road?
Poor, dear Bilbo! Gone, gone is he!"
Pity welling up within me, I approached
The woman and touched her elbow
"Please do not weep, kind woman
I will take my uncle's place, and
Help you with your chores
No trouble it is for me."
Her lips parted, absorbing this information
"Why. . .I can't thank you enough,"
She finally said, a slight smile appearing
"You're just like your dear uncle -
Kind and generous."
I froze, and the pat she gave my shoulder
As she departed felt icy to the touch
'Just like your dear uncle. . .'
These words haunting me, I left for home
* * *
My thoughts drifted back to the first night. . . The first night that my heart knew what grief really was
It was raining that night, the moon frightened away
The stars blanketed by the storm clouds
They had gone.swallowed by the river's angry mouth
Forever to have their lungs filled with that life-giving water
I sat at the window, looking out into the storm
And finally breaking down in tears
I knew, in my heart, that they were in some better place
Merry and joyful at their returning to the Creator
But, still. . .
Why could I not be with them?
I sat there for many hours
My tears my only consolation
Finally, sleep took hold of me
And would not let go
My eyes beginning to flutter shut,
I felt two strong arms wrap about me
And I slumped into the warm chest
A pillow for my misery
Knowing who it was, I spoke,
"Bilbo. . ."
"Hm?" came the gentle reply, a cradle for my woes
"Are they.are they really gone?"
I looked up, and gazed into his soft eyes
Though they were mixed with curiosity,
But then, discernment
"Gone? Never will they be, my lad.
They will always be here with you. . .
Even unto the end of your days. . ."
I felt my eyes wax over with new tears
"Will I. . .ever see them again?
Or will I only be able to visit them in my dreams?"
It took him awhile to answer,
A strange sound coming from his lips
When he spoke
"Yes. . .yes, you will.
And happy will you be,
And happy will they be. . ."
He paused, thinking a bit.
"You know, lad. . .that my parents are gone too."
I jerked into full wakefulness
"But you. . .you said that they'd never leave!"
He turned to gaze back into my eyes,
Wisdom glittering in them,
As though he were telling one of his old tales again
"They never will, lad. . .
They're here with me, right now
And with you too."
I looked about the room,
My hands lying against his shirt
As though begging for an answer
That I was not sure would ever come
"But where ARE they?"
A soft smile crossed his lips,
His eyes twinkling again
"Aye, the only place us mortals can live forever. . ."
I looked up at him, waiting. . .
Waiting for my answer. . .
"Your heart, my boy. They're in your heart. No matter what you do, lad, they'll never go away. Not unless you let 'em."
A cold splatter touched my arm,
And my emotions racking my soul,
I burst into tears and wrapped my arms about his neck
"I'll never let them, Bilbo! Never!"
A tender pat on the back
"I believe you, boy. . . Don't worry, I believe you."
* * *
The first night at Bag-End
The furthest I've ever been
From everything I knew. . .
Except Bilbo
I tossed and turned in the bed all night
Remembering that boat. . .
That cursed boat. . .
The Brandywine swallowed them up. . .
Just an accident, just an accident, they said. . .
A knock at the door
"May I come in?"
I was turned so that my back faced him
"If I don't let you," I choke-sobbed,
"Will you go away?"
"Well," he started uneasily,
"Depends on how you say it. . .
If I can tell that you really want me to go away,
I will
But if I think that you need me
Perhaps just as much as I need you. . .
I don't think I will."
A silent tear slid down my cheek
"Will you go away like They did?
Leaving me like They did?"
The contempt in my tone did not vanish
"Will you. . .will you. . ."
I could not say "They" again
Hot tears spilled down my face
A pair of arms wrapped about me,
Picking me up and holding me
Cradling me. . .
It is all too familiar for me not to cry once more
Wanting my mother, wanting my father. . .
Wanting to be a child again
Just so then I could see their faces again
A kiss upon my forehead
So much like my mother,
But yet. . .
Not
"I'll never leave you, lad,"
He whispered
"You know that."
I clutched his shirt with one hand
Bringing myself in to place my face
Into his shirt,
So that my sobs might be comforted
"I-I know!" I finally whimper
My face feeling hot and red
Like a burn, leaving a scar that would never go away. . .
"B-but. . .it still. . ."
"Hurts?" he offered, brushing the curls
Out of my face
Closing my eyes, I meekly nod
"They'll never leave you. . ." he insisted
But his promise fell upon deaf ears
"But then why did they?" I scoff harshly
"And if they really WERE still here. . .
How come. . ."
I looked away, peering out the window
No rain. . .
"How come do I feel so alone?"
He didn't answer
* * *
The first night, alone
Just like before. . .
Oh, Bilbo? I wonder
Why did you leave me?
Leave me to go to a better place
Wherest I cannot be?
Gandalf hast gone, and the house is empty
Once more
The shadows my only friends
But wait. . .
Did I see one move?
No, can't be. . .
I go into the living room
Returning to my gloomy thoughts
Taking seat upon a couch fine
I curled up my knees to my chest
My arms wrapped about them in the embrace
I wished to have
Alone, alone once more. . .
The first night I have Bag-End to myself,
Its new master
How, what kind of a master can I be?
Bilbo knew how to run things,
How to make everything come out right,
How to.how to do everything that I could not
I sigh deeply, placing my cheek upon my knee
The Gaffer is still the gardener - what shall I pay him?
Oh, I suppose he will tell me what his wage is. . .
Always so honest. . .
But what about my other dealings?
How might I handle them?
Bilbo returns to mind
Why can't I drive him away, even when he is
Already gone?
Every breath, every flinch
Reminds me of him
Why did he have to do this to me. . .
A sob creeps on out of my throat
And almost at the same time, I hear a lamp knock over
Startled, I look up
Fear and courage mixed into my tone
"Who goes there!" I cried out as bravely as I could
"I am the master of Bag-End, and I will have no thieves
In my house on this night!
Be gone, I say!"
No reply at first
Only the breeze coming in through an open window
Finally, a hunched back rises up from behind a small desk
Sitting up on his knees, he places his hands upon it for support
"It's me. . ." the form whispers
"Just me, Sam Gamgee. . ."
Never could I have been happier to hear that name
A fresh sob makes its way out of my throat,
And I slap a hand over my mouth, thoroughly embarrassed
In the moonlight, I could see the gardener's son frown
"If you don't want me here, I'll just leave, if you want me to, sir. . ."
"No, please!" I find myself crying out, a begging arm extended
His eyes widen in surprise, and I shamefully curl my arm
Back into my lap
"Please. . ." I whisper, "stay with me. . ."
He stares at me a moment, then gives a slight nod of his head
He sits down on the couch next to me, and I find myself
Twiddling my thumbs
Trying to organize my thoughts
For the listening ears that awaited my words
"I. . ." I said, as though in a daze
I looked up at nothing in particular
"I just thought he'd never leave me, that's all. . ."
Silence was my reply
Slowly, I turned so that his eyes
Met mine
"Sam. . ."
"Yes?"
"Will you ever. . .leave me?"
He blinks, clearly taken aback
"Well, sir, I'd be more a-worried
'Bout you leavin' ME. . ."
"Answer my question, please. . ." I whispered
My heart fearing it might be broken for a third time
I gazed into my eyes for a moment,
The brown in his eyes shimmering for a moment,
Considering, thinking. . .
But, then, I already knew the answer
* "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to. . . *
* I don't mean to. . . *
