A little missive from my mother

Betty’s mother, mindful of Betty’s somewhat chequered history with motor vehicles (she was hit by a car one time, and she takes the bus a fair bit, that is all), sent Betty this postcard from London.

Poem by A. D. Godley, illustration by J. R. R. Tolkien.

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I Sit and Think

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 never 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 who 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.

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien