and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless
unheralded he homeward sped.

I've been a mama for some time now, and while I often marvel at my son, it's not all that often that he really surprises me. I guess I'm getting that mother's blase, having seen so much of his brilliance, and shenanigans.... I'm gonna have to shake that off, I'd hate to miss any of this precious time!

This morning, I was reading to him from 'The Fellowship of the Ring". Tolkien is a brilliant writer, but given too very, very long turns of phrase and loads of poetic description. Sometimes Sam seems to glaze over. He's a very kinetic little boy and almost always needs something to keep his hands-or mouth!-busy while he listens...

Anyway, I'd come to the part where Frodo, recovering from his wounding by the Ringwraith's Morgul-knife, is listening to Bilbo chant his latest poem, the ballad of Earendil.

Sam did not appear to be listening at all, so I skipped some verses, thinking this long poetising must surely be the most boring for him.

The chapter ended, and Sam turns to me:

"I love that song. I want to write that down when we get home, OK?"

Sheesh. So much for momniscience! I confessed that I'd skipped part of it and reread it to him in it's full poetic glory immediately.

Earendil is a mariner, I wonder if it's all the ships and stormy sea adventuring that captured his attention?