Nasty hobbits
like puffing pride
Keep me ever
small inside.

My only hope
to grow anew
is humble service
in all I do.

And false humility,
pride's lesser twin
of gifts denied,
is, too, a sin.

So 'er I stray
to either side
of loves sweet mark
that doth abide,

I must forbear
my naked state:
undress the present
and with Truth mate.

To give immortal
gifts of love
is e'er ordained
by Heaven above...

above all else
I think or do
is how I am
toward God in you...

For as I breathe
and walk and live
I'm giv'n immortal
gifts to give:

Gifts of heart
through mind and hand
Gifts from God...
these gifts for man,

And lest I squander
one more day
I must to give
these gifts away.

So if these words
be straight and true
they be my gifts
from God to you.

And if their flight
doth go astray,
that is but ego
in the way.

And should love's arrow
find that gaffe,
I can only
mend my half:

With presence's gift
unwrapped anew,
accepting all
that's right and true:

My bows of pride
unleashed in time:
release this box
of gifts divine.

And falsly humble
is the lid
under which
lost love is hid.

So pray for grace
to tear asunder
both box and cord
to find life's wonder

Of loves sweet ring,
philosopher's stone,
the set and setting
triune alone.

With God the giver
in me the gift
for you beloved
that spirits lift:

Our eyes to Heaven
Our minds to Truth
Our hearts to God's
Eternal youth.

I love you now.
I love you true.
I love our Source
in me and you.

Thus as I fast
and as I pray
I think of you
this precious day.

I wear for you
love's ring immortal
that we may share
God's life eternal.

That when we cast
life's mortal coil
these vessels' dust
be fertile soil

So when we reap
of seeds now sown
we find our halfling
hobbits grown.