The Great Hall of Poets
Welcome to The Great Hall of Poets, our regular monthly feature showcasing the talent of Middle-earth fans. Each month we will feature a small selection of the poems submitted, but we hope you will read all of the poems that we have received here in our Great Hall of Poets.
So come and join us by the hearth and enjoy!
If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to email@example.com
One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.
Lament for Boromir
Brave son of Gondor,
So proud and so tall,
The white city will weep,
When told of your fall.
You battled so bravely
to save them both there,
Courageous and strong
you were, fierce and fair.
They will sing of your deeds
in both City and Shire,
Of the orcs that you slew
as the battle raged higher,
Until pierced by too many
black arrows, you fell,
Protecting the Halflings
as stories will tell.
O, Brave son of Gondor
who’s body now rests
to let others resume with
this hardest of quests.
Be at peace with yourself
And the choices you made
In the end you came through
Your true colours displayed.
By I. Salogel
The ancient structures, bold and tall
Still standing watch above the fall
Are silent; and no voices call
From carven mouths to river wall.
Yet though they cannot see or speak
They stand with pride while rivers leak
Between their mighty feet; and seek
For those whose hearts are frail and weak.
Centuries did they command
With vacant gaze and outstretched hand
For centuries they still will stand
Remaining guardians of their land.
They bear helms fine as any king hath,
They still withstand the weather’s wrath
And stand o’er flowing river path
Unchangeable – the Argonath.
Under shining trees in woodland fair,
Apart from any mortal care,
Lies Ithilien in splendour bright,
Ithilien of trees of glorious light.
Yet beyond the woodland fair,
There was not an evil ne’er,
Cool are the streams that run,
Bubbling and laughing in fun.
Still lies Ithilien, still in blossom bright,
Still the moon shines on it with glim’ring light;
O Ithilien! No cares or woes carry in your heart!
O Ithilien! One last fading sprig save for me.
~~*~~Posted in Creations, Fans, Poetry on July 30, 2014 by Kelvarhin