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Search Results for: "Hall of fire"

The Great Hall of Poets – June 2015

Silver Trumpets

by: Brianna B.

A city of white,
And a courtyard of stone
The great tree of kings,
Trumpets calling them home.

Boromir, son of Gondor
He fights for the city of kings,
Her freedom and safety is his one desire
His voice on the battlefield rings.

Hear them calling? The great silver trumpets
Calling their Captain, their lord
The one who they fought for, the one who they died for,
Alas! For the wish of his life he’ll have no reward.

He’d lead them in battle, and alway they’d follow,
To whatever end they’ll fight
His greatest wish to see Gondor restored,
He’ll give his strength, his valor, his life.

That great desire was what betrayed him,
To see his people safe,
He loves fiercely, he’ll guard to to the end
The orcs fleeing to Mordor he’ll send.

With shadows long upon the ground
Who will now the trumpets sound?
Who will now his people lead
To what voice will they now heed.

Alas the Son of Gondor
Has met a bitter end
He kept his honor and fought bravely,
But who will now his father send?

Who will lead the armies,
And who will fight the war?
Alas! For Gondor’s lost her captain;
Across the stormy shore.

The tower guard is waiting,
Upon the pearly walls
A brother grieves, a father weeps,
Inside the ancient halls.

They heard the horn of Gondor
From Anduin’s the stormy vale
Alas, now who will call it?
And who will bear the gallant tale?

A city of white,
And a courtyard of stone
The great tree of kings,
Trumpets calling them home.

~~ * ~~

A cry from Orthnanc

By: Hoyt H.

Orthnanc tower of Isengard,
Protrudes from the earth like a blackened shard,
A bone of the earth fractured in war,
The throne of a wizard that lives no more,
It’s windows clamped, its doorways barred,
The eternal tower of Isengard.
Orthnanc tower was the home,
Of a wizard content not to roam,
The wizard white,the council’s head,
From whom many wicked fled.
Praises were sung by many a bard,
About that lord of Isengard.
Orthnanc old held magic fair,
Sauruman skill was beyond compare,
He led the Istari in chaos and order,
Peace reigned within his rocky border.
A place of rest in times hard,
There was shelter within Isengard
Orthnanc tower held Saruman,
A wizard beyond the strength of man,
His power grew his magic was great,
But like all he met his fate.
Evil grew and none were scarred,
More than the keeper of Isengard.
Orthnanc once a place of joy,
Became a home to an evil ploy,
From Sauron Lord of trick and lie,
Saruman was bent to serve the eye.
His name was ruined his land was marred,
And evil came to Isengard.
Orthnanc was stripped of its mighty trees,
There branches burned to Sauron appease,
Saruman spirit was defeated,
By Sauron who stole, and burned and cheated.
Evil took over and the world was jarred,
When good departed from Isengard.
Orthnanc now stands to remind all,
That even the strongest, men can fall,
In power we still see the white wizard,
In the blinding snow of a freezing blizzard.
And no mortal can discard,
The lesson learned at Isengard,
Orthnanc still stands where it always will,
All who behold it know it’s thrill,
While evil took Saruman away,
The true white wizard is seen each day.
In snow capped peaks that stand guard,
Over the ancient Isengard.
Orthnanc remains while Sarumans gone,
The wizards magic shall ever wan.
In white capped waves and Sandy shores,
Saruman has past through a new set of doors.
His presence is felt in each square yard,
Within the sight of Isengard.
Orthnanc was home to Christopher Lee,
Who captured Saruman perfectly,
Now he too has reached the undying lands,
A pure white boat on pure white sands,
But on stands for ever that one last shard,
Of Saruman, in Isengard.

~~ * ~~

The Mines

By: the Champion of Mirkwood

Darkness covers the lost path,
Revealing the faded shadows,
Time has come yet it has passed,
Consumed by crippling battles.
All glory has now decayed,
The Halls are robbed of their masons,
History has been written,
With Dwarven blood at the basin.

The nostrils are under siege,
The stench has become prevalent,
The olfaction must stand trial,
With a verdict quite evident.
Decayed flesh divides the air,
And conquers all the senses,
The scent has grown more putrid,
Dismantling hope’s defenses.

The air has become heavy,
Like butter that is now rotten,
Flooding the mouth with disgust,
The fresh air has been forgotten.
With another toxic breathe
Sinking the lungs of travelers,
Ash and flesh reign in these Halls,
Now the tombs have found their handlers.

Readied sword, axe, and arrow,
The travelers grasp their weapons,
The pilgrim forced to relearn
The ancient Mine’s evil lesson.
The corridor’s stone is cold,
A chill runs rampant through the skin,
A homecoming is thwarted,
As the Dwarf now mourns for his kin.

The silence has grown louder,
With each echo getting longer,
Every footstep screams its pain,
And every breathe is more somber.
Nine hearts beat in unison,
Like battle drums in the distance,
The ghosts have finished their song,
The Balrog demands submission.

~~* ~~

Éowyn of Rohan

By Pandi P.

Éowyn of Rohan stood behind the throne,
her eyes full of tears, her rippling hair shone.
Fair lady, so bright, your eyes like stars
shone like golden lights throughout the night!

Éowyn of Rohan stood upon the walls,
her hair blown ‘round her face so fair.
Fair lady, so bright, your dress like pearls
rippled through the fading light as twilight fell again!

Éowyn of Rohan walked upon the stairs,
her feet so lightly clad upon the icy stair.
Fair lady, so bright, your arms were white as snow
that falls upon the frozen ground like crowns of golden stones.

Éowyn of Rohan sang at fading light,
her voice like silver winds upon a summer’s night.
Fair lady, so bright, you shone there fading clear
like sunlight on the fading swells towards the dawn of night.

~~ * ~~


by: Bracegirdle

From the Blessed Realm sailing, Shining Valinor,
By the Eldar King sent on a burdensome chore.
Fragile he seemed yet his eye gleamed
As he departed from that Farthest West Shore.

Fair Mithlond received him and Middle-earth was blest;
As mortal he came this brave humble guest.
Círdan said “Master this Ring I do bring,
I deem it may aid thee ere end of your quest.”

Two thousand years and more he did toil.
From errand oppressive he did not recoil.
Weary of load wandering long lonely road,
From Havens to Last Desert over Middle-earth soil.

When in dark cavern deep and dungeon cold
Was found Ring bright, wrought with gold;
And Mithrandir knew this was the clue:
The Dark Lord to stop with desperate plan bold.

After time without end and trials indeed hard
O Pilgrim Grey be still on your guard!
For foe may be hidden coming unbidden
Your plans to thwart your hopes to discard.

Then Companions brave trodding dark Khazad-dûm
Were faced by the Terror released from his tomb.
Alone he fought as was his thought –
The means to the end more important than his doom.

Ever he battled monstrous Durin’s Bane,
To earth’s bowels deep then upward again.
From Silvertine’s summit the Balrog did plummet,
But alas! Savaged Wizard also was slain.

Back went the Grey Pilgrim from whence he departed;
Grace He was given, new plots to be charted.
Back came the Light as Gandalf the White,
And hope was restored by this Wizard bold-hearted.

White Rider the Mover, Middle-earth he did save;
The victory was His with those that did brave.
With errand now ended Mithrandir ascended
White Ship tall to sail West over wave.

O Mithrandir sundered from us to that place of evermore;
Yet long his tale will linger, long our hearts will soar.
And we who must remain will endlessly retain
Fond memory of this Wizard from that Shining Far West Shore.

~~ * ~~


By: Cora H.

In the land of Middle Earth,
There is a haven called the Shire,
Where people are wide of girth,
And wear colourful attire.

Within this lovely place,
Hobbiton can be found,
There is no lack of space,
For Hobbits live underground.

Atop the hill where Hobbits reside,
I stand, tall and proud.
On me little Hobbits love to hide,
And play beneath my shroud.

Under my branches festivities are had,
With much ale and food.
And no party could be bad,
With Gandalf to lighten the mood.

Fireworks go up from my hill,
Illuminating the sky,
Everyone can see the mill,
And the smoke rings floating by.

Inside them all,
There is much food and wine,
They all dance and have a ball,
Under my verdant vine.

They come to me to gather,
They also come to eat.
Though in winter they would rather,
Keep warm their furry feet.

My services have no fee,
When they come to call.
I will always be their party tree,
Until I decay and fall.

~~ * ~~

~ R I S E A N I G H T ~

By: Nordvar Viridium

Weeping and desolate, sad, so sad
Flayed is the loneliness of the mad
Gorging upon the Age of the Undead.
The darkest of days convulsing ahead
Light, the infidel, anchored damned
Weeping and desolate, sad, so sad.

Defeat the last herder –
Thus you can be the one in me,
To feel what I’m about to dream,
And bleed what I’ve never seen.
Three stars to murder –
Away from light ordained to be,
To see what life can never give
So enshadow the hearts with grief.

~~ * ~~

Returning Home; Thorin

By: Eleanor D.

Tonight is not the end;
Together we defend
The realm of hearth and home,
From which fools roam.
A lantern keeps alight,
Steadfast, warm and bright;
For a fool’s return,
We let the lantern burn.
Our foolish kin come back
To find the home they lack.
Let them not forget
Their wand’ring lessons yet.

~~ * ~~

Posted in

The Great Hall of Poets – May 2015

The Maiden with Silver Hair

by Lithoniel-Greenleaf

Walking slowly over the dew flecked grounds,
A young maiden with silver hair appears.
Her hair shining in the silver moon.
She dances, as a soft gentle breeze
Begins to stir.

The leaves are whispering secrets to her.
Secrets from the past, secrets from the days that
Have passed. Secrets from the future, secrets from
Children and men.

The maiden with silver hair smiles, and
Listens to the secrets being shared.
For she is the only one who can hear
Them, only her.

Secrets she would keep dear.
The maiden with silver hair smiles,
As the wind blows by.
She listens silently as the night
Calls to her.
The night calls to the stars.

The night calls to her,
And soon the maiden with
Silver hair, flowing past her knees
Dances again.
And soon whispering rain is heard,
Upon the horizon.

Soon a faint, giggle is heard.
And a voice as gentle as silk is heard.
Her tongue is foreign,
An ancient language.

But it seems to call to the rain,
To the wind, to the moon, to the stars,
To night, to day.
As the maiden with silver hair speaks,
Though not alone.

A quieter voice has joined her own, as the
Moon shines upon golden hair.
Another maiden is standing with her,
Clothed in white, and full of light.
Her ears though slightly pointed,
Show through her hair.
She is Galadriel, the lady of light.
The maiden with silver hair, speaks
Voice as quiet as night. Her ears are pointed as
Well it seems.
Elves both of these fair maidens are.

Both are ancient, both are wise.
Both have seen the world that comes
And goes.
Their voices, soft as snow, gentle
As rain, though foreign to
Thine ear.

Talk of the past, what is to come
And what has gone. And soon silence
Is heard.
The maiden with golden hair,
Has now gone with the wind.

As the maiden with silver hair,
Smiles and soon she is dancing again,
While leaves dance around her and wind
Whispers to her once more.
As the bell tolls midnight, the rain
Is soon to come.

And the Elven maiden with silver,
Flowing hair, and midnight blue gown,
Sings as her work is done. The rain sings around her,
Though she is not wet, giving life to the land,
To the earth she stands on.

For she smiles, as others,
Both men and hobbits, dwarves and elves
Sleep, for she would protect them,
As her mother does.

The elven maiden with silver hair,
Softly sings as the rains fall, the earth absorbs
The life giving rain. The leaves shiver as rain sparkles
Like early morning dew, from a star’s tear.

The maiden with silver hair, dances once
Again, as the land rejoices.
And soon her singing is heard in the
Wind, in the rain, among the stars and
In our dreams.

Though now she is gone,
But I know she will return.
For she is the elven maiden with silver hair
The guardian of secrets,
The guardian of rain,
The guardian of night,
The guardian of wind,
The guardian of our dreams.

Her mother Galadriel, always watches
Over her, guiding her.
Though the maiden with silver hair,
Has been there through the ages.

For she is the maiden with silver hair,
And she will always be.

~~ * ~~

In The Halls…

by Hali Ravenhammer

In the halls of dungeons deep
Where many delve and never sleep
It’s there twas found the heart of stone
Shining brightly all alone.

In the halls of carvings drawn
Soldiers stand to guard the dawn
The wind, it rises to catch the air
A subtle warmth that cannot compare.

In the halls where gold lies
The king stands alone and never cries
His heart is cold and lost and black
And cruel words are his harsh attack.

In the halls a dragon came
Destroying lives never to be the same
Killing all who crossed his path
And burning those in his fiery wrath.

In the halls where death lingers
The drake guards his hoard with scaly fingers
He sleeps brooding over his gold
His red greatness shining bold.

In the halls a terrible silence falls
And lone ravens mourn with lamenting calls
They wait for the day of the King’s return
Hearts hoping for him, they yearn.

In the halls of Erebor
The dwarves dwell there no more
Wandering lost in the wilderness
The harsh wind acts as their only caress

In the halls of broken ruin
The blood of Durin will return soon
Led by the crownless Prince with the oaken shield
The dragon’s might shall finally yield.

In the halls of Durin’s folk
Lies a sleeping King, many’ve spoke
He waits in rest, with his kin, until the demise
Then from heaven, he shall arise.

~~ * ~~

Last of the Ring Bearers

by Bracegirdle

On sun-bright summer mornings with clippers and a hoe
He’d take the pleasant short walk to the top of Bagshot Row.
While humming soft a song he would slowly stroll along,
Pondering the day’s work – how to help the garden grow.

When tales overheard of Elves and Rings and Foe immensely strong;
Of Master Frodo’s leaving – and fear he did not belong.
But the Grey Pilgrim knew that the heart of Sam was true,
And this son of Gaffer Gamgee would get to go along.

Through Old Forest and on to Bree, Sam met the Future King.
Then secret ways through reeking fen and midges with a Sting.
From Hilltop to the Ford where cold the waters roared;
A fate then lade at Rivendell – Nine Walkers and The Ring.

In Khazad-dûm a great loss – The Fellowship now eight.
Then Golden Wood too short a rest, and on to River Great.
Tale now fully told of Sam’s faithfulness so bold.
Then leisure trek to Shire so dear to fulfil his fate.

To Elanor he did entrust the Red Book to hold tight,
To tell the tales of days gone by, the days of dark and light.
Samwise with Daughter Fair then a final walk did share.
A slow walk of sweet sadness to Grey Havens bright.

Now, Last of the Ring Bearers, Middle-earth he did leave,
And Straight Way was taken as grace he did receive.
Past friendships now unfold and Sam’s tears fall as gold.
And Aman is further blest on this unknown summer’s eve.

~~ * ~~

The Raven Crown of Erebor

by Brianna L

The glistening black and shining gold,
Upon his brow it sits
Ancient treasure, but only one
Can claim it ere’ the battle’s done.

The raven strong, his wings outspread
Flying on a golden bed
This great symbol of majesty,
Yet with it comes such tragedy.

That black raven, with his broad wings
Power it gives, yet doom it brings:
The gold for the lust, and the black for the curse;
They see as he leaves them; he’s getting worse.

Alas for that he cannot see
What, for all his life did he
Fear to become, to the cursed gold succumb;
That golden crown brings death.

He hears voices, from afar off
Foretelling his doom, and warning him;
The sickness which threatened to be his death, ere’ long
Is from his proud and brave mind drawn.

His mind is clear, his heart is pure
His courage back; his intention sure
Their King is returned, and the treacherous crown
Is discarded, the sickness thrown down.

~~ * ~~

Of Arwen Evenstar

by Ludwina Marie

In Elvenhome of Rivendell,
where Elrond Half-Elven gladly dwells;
Fair is his land, clear water flows
like starlight caught in crystal shone.
Gay are his halls, the sparkling wells
tinkled merrily like golden bells.
Fair Elven lords in carven stone
and dancing Elven maids of old.
Forgotten runes of ancient lore
were placed upon his mighty door.

There music rang, forever sweet,
the golden sun there brightly lit.
No evil shadow ever falls,
no darkness touches shining walls
In Imladris, the Elvenhome,
the mighty rest and cease to roam.

Though fair was Elrond’s Rivendell,
fairer still, Arwen Undómiel.
In Lúthien’s image come again:
Evenstar of the Elven race.

Dark as the twilight was her hair,
the light in her eyes, none could mar.
The white of her arms shone like snow
on a winter’s day; and her brow,
adorned with glittering silver lace;
Her soft grey raiment and her face,
veiled with wisdom and mem’ry old,
Youthful was she and yet not so.

The birds sang sweetly at her feet,
the forest rejoiced when they meet.
The starlight falls about her hair –
on Tinúviel, the Elven-fair.

Above all else did Elrond prize,
above all counsels of the wise;
Before the sun and silver moon,
the countless stars, the blooming fields.
Ere any mighty Elven lord,
ere val’iant man or dwarven hoard,
above all gifts of Galadriel –
Was Arwen, Lady Undómiel.

~~ * ~~

~The Treasures of Middle Earth~

by Hoyt H.

VERSE 1 Prologue
The treasure of yore, in Middle Earth,
The smelted ore, of untold worth.
Gems beyond the count men, gold beyond all comprehension,
Silver steel worth gold times ten, drew all the free people’s attention.
For every single treasure found, evil followed after,
Crying was the only sound, and grief drowned out all laughter.
The mighty jewels of massive wealth, and great heaps of works of gold,
Were stolen away with evil stealth. as it is in all tales told
When a prize of any worth, is found by the wise,
Be it from sea or from the earth. it’s stolen before their eyes
The want for treasure has many names, dragon sickness, greed,
All the riches of ancient fames, were subject to evil deeds.

VERSE 2 Mithril
Mithril bright from Moria’s mine, shines like silver steel,
A shining ore with a burnished shine. as sleek as a slithering eel.
Stronger than iron triple forged, worth more than any gold,
Mines were stripped and deep shafts gorged, to mine the true silver of old.
Gleaming like rain, strong as a mountain,
Bright without stain, like a glittering fountain.
Mithril, metal of Durin’s folk, ordains the white city’s gate,
A gleaming sheet that can’t broke, to protect against forces of hate.
Beneath Caradras cruel, in Moria’s deep rock cave
The dwarves they struck with many a tool, the dwarvish race was brave.
They braved the Balrog’s darkened lair, to mine the hardened silver treasure
Bravely mining the meatal fair to bring the dwarf king pleasure.
The Balrog took the Mithril, and fled to Kazad-Dum,
It became a place of dark cold chill, it became king Durin’s tomb.

VERSE 3 ~The Arkenstone~
The jewel beyond all measure the Arkenstone of Thror,
Was a kingly treasure, The heart of Erebor
This gem of pure starlight, was found deep within the stone,
A crystal gem of transparent white. adorned king Thror’s throne
The heart of the lonely peak, beside the running river,
The jewel was strong it made dwarves weak, that clear and shining sliver.
The jewel of ancient splendor, was the pride if all dwarf kind,
It did the dwarves hearts render, and corrupted the kings mind.
The greatest jewel of the wild north, it drew the gaze of all
To seize the gem a worm came forth, and Erebor did fall.
The dragon Smaug came for the stone, the dwarves were slain and beaten,
The dwarves were stranded all alone, and some were burned an eaten.
The dragon descended on the mound, of heaping gold and jewels,
He gathered the treasure all around, the dwarvin kings were fools.

VERSE 4~The Trees of the Valar~
The trees of the Valar the sun and moon, were bright upon the sky.
Greater in power than any rune, they stretched to reaches high.
The trees of elves were beautiful, they shone of gold and silver light,
To them the elves were dutiful, for they lit the day and night.
White and shining boughs, and leaves of brightest beams,
All who beheld wept and were cowed, at the light as clear as streams.
The power of Iluvatar, was poured into these trees,
They caught the light of every star, for all the elves to see.
But Morgoth the dark lord, the most evil of them all,
Hated the beauty in the trees stored, so the spider he sent to maul.
The dark ones plan was cunning, the spider destroyed the light,
Where once was beacons stunning, now was only death and night.
The trees were pulled out of the ground, Ungoliant stole their power,
Elves were fallen all around, it was there darkest hour.

VERSE 5 ~The Silmarils~
The Silmarils were precious stones, the held the light of the trees,
The trees now bare and lifeless bones, and left to rot and freeze,
These Silmarils were crafted, by elves with magic skills,
The trees power in them grafted, by the mighty elven wills.
Globes of crystal transparent, and filled with burning light,
Like the trees which were their parent, they were a noble sight.
With the trees destroyed by evil, and Morgoth seizing the land,
In a time of great upheaval, the elves did make there stand.
But Morgoth descended, and stole also these orbs a-glowing,
With middle Earth upended, evil seeds were sowing.
Elves were dead and weeping, Feanor took his oath,
Evil things were creeping they took the trees and Silmarils both.
Those were dark days for the wise, Morgoth took the stones,
He stole away with his prize, and set them on his throne.

VERSE 6~The Magic Rings~
But perhaps the greatest prize of all, the magic rings of old,
More magic than any spell or thrall, forged of enchanted gold.
Perfect bands of metal ore, polished till they shone.
The most powerful of magic lore, shaped and set with stones,
Made by elvish craftsman, tricked by Sauron’s spell,
For the elves and dwarves and kings of man, and one for the dark lord fell.
There magic seemed a splendid gift, but it truly was a curse,
To evil use these rings did shift, but the one ring was the worst.
Made by elves to be a boon, but by Sauron defiled,
Carved with many an ancient rune, and with black magic styled.
The dwarvin rings were taken, in men the elves lost faith,
Their trust in kings was shaken, as each became a wraith.
Sauron daily grew in might, elves slowly grew weak,
He stole the rings out of sight, in his blackened peak.

VERSE 7 ~Epilogue~
While it often seems that all, That’s good is stole away.
That for every leap there is a fall, But for every nights there’s day.
While the Balrog took the Mithril fine, the wizard slew the creature,
The dwarves returned to Moria’s mine, and restored its every feature.
The Arkenstone was claimed by Smaug, but the dwarves reclaimed their home.
They cleared cave of the smoky fog, and replaced the jewel on its throne.
The Valar trees had died from rot, the spider was expelled,
Morgoth was defeated and caught, to pay for the trees he felled.
Morgoth was bound for eternity, the Silmarils too he did take,
Now they rest in fire, sky and the sea, the hope of the elves he could not break.
Finally the rings of power were cast, by Sauron the second dark lord.
Destroyed like villains of ages past by bravery, fire, and sword.
So while every good king has his foe, and every treasure a thief,
Good things come when bad things go, despair is replaced by relief.

~~ * ~~

Posted in

The Great Hall of Poets – March 2015

Fili’s Lament

By Kili’s Runestone

Me staring back was your very first sight,
When you opened your eyes that night.
You learned to crawl as I learned to walk,
You learned to eat as I learned to talk.
Your very first word was my own name,
The best of friends is what we became.
Thorin gave us wood shields and swords,
He told us stories of dragons and hoards,
We dreamt of adventure, we played pretend,
If I was an orc, your play bow you’d bend,
If you were an orc, I’d slash my sword,
We were together, we were never bored.
We’d spin long tales of glory and gold,
We talked of what we’d do when old,
We talked of treasure, of battles we’d fight,
We talked of fame, of strength, of might,
We soon were men, though quite young,
Still we dreamt, when songs were sung,
Of winning the war, of quenched dragon fire,
And when we journeyed out to the Shire,
We followed our leader, our captain, our king.
We went merry, many a song we’d sing,
We raced our ponies, we gazed at stars,
We escaped together, from Thranduil’s bars.
I worried over you, but we had best of fun,
Sometimes we rode, sometimes we’d run,
We always sang, told tales of treasure,
We braided hair, our beards we’d measure,
We grew more solemn as the dragon drew near,
But we grew not afraid, we did not feel fear,
Thorin was our leader, and Bilbo had a ring,
We were Durin’s sons, we did not fear a thing.
But when Thorin descended to madness,
And I saw in your eyes pain and sadness,
When innumerable ranks, we charged,
When through shield and spear we barged,
When the sword smote through my breast,
When the lance struck through your chest,
When bleeding I fell into the cold dark mud,
Tried to scream but what came was only blood,
You stumbled towards me but could not stand,
You crawled to me, I reached for your hand,
We cried together and thought sadly of old,
We had thought battles were all glory and gold,
You shuddered and asked if you were dying,
I said no, though we both knew I was lying,
I said you should sleep, I’ll sing you a song,
I sang to you of far away caves, of rivers long,
I sang to you of mother, of laughter and love,
I sang to you of the Arkenstone stars above.
Blood poured from my mouth as I whispered to you,
Your beautiful face began to take a grey hue,
We held each other, you whispered good bye,
I remembered when you said you’d never die.
Your eyes fluttered closed, you breathed your last,
I told you I loved you, remembered days long past,
We were children who didn’t know fear,
I closed my eyes and drew you near,
And then in the bloodied evening grey,
I dropped your hand and slipped away.

~~ * ~~

The Battle of the Pelennor

By Elodrin

In front of the City
The orcs show no pity.
While women are weeping
In death, men are sleeping.

The battle was almost lost:
Great was the orcs’ grim cost.
When horns commenced to ring,
And the Horse-lords began to sing.

Forward they charged and fast,
And though their army was not vast,
They slew the Enemy and sang
As sword on shield began to clang.

Yet it was going very ill:
Men of Harad came to kill.
The King fought well, but soon was slain
Upon that blood-red, grassy plain.

But upon the dawn of newborn day,
When sun in her lonely rest still lay,
There came upon the blood-stained river
The Dead that caused all men to shiver.

Wielding shining swords they ran,
As seasoned warriors only can.
Dismayed, the orcs threw down their shields,
Ending the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

~~ * ~~

LOTR’s Poem

by – Jordan Michael K

Send forth all LEGIONS
The command comes from on high on the RUINS
The Anduin bleeds & she’s no longer the Wall she was in our antiquity
Send forth all LEGIONS and take the city!
Show no pity for the Hammer has fallen to shatter!
Mordor has come & our doom will come after!
The ‘deadly servant’ of the great Eye has revealed himself with war & tide
Flee for your lives & fall for the White Tower has an empty hall & the blood of Numenor hears the ending call
Light the BEACONS for the ‘Witch King’ has sent forth all LEGIONS

~~ * ~~

Posted in

The Great Hall of Poets

ArwenReading_revisedWelcome 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.


Posted in Creations, Fans, Poetry

The Great Hall of Poets

ChristmasBilboReadingWelcome 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
One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.


Posted in Creations, Fans, Poetry

The Great Hall of Poets – December 2014

An Elf Remembers, or Galadriel’s Lament: A Poem in Two Parts

by Mrs Adam C

The Light of Valinor

A silver light gleaming, stars mounting to the sky;
the darkness flew, the dawn gleamed dim, the sky filled with light.
There were Two Trees, far in the West, Two Trees without decay,
one silver-clad, one wreathed in gold, before they passed away.
In Valmar fair, the City Gold, the bells were rung at dawn,
and when the stars burned fiery-bright the Elves were dancing long.
Beneath the thrones of ivory, under the seats of stone
the Vanyar played their glitt’ring harps, and silver horns were blown.
O Valmar sweet! the roofs of gold, the doors of polished bronze
reflect the beauty of the Trees across the gloaming lawns.
Taniquetil the ever-white was glist’ning in the light
of those Two Trees in elder days before there came the night.
Atop the peak of that great mount was set a mansion white;
and on the roof of azure hue were spangled stars alight.
O Ilmarin! I used to gaze upon the lofty heights,
and ever from Oiolossë the eagles flew in flights.
The mountains tall, the Pelóri, they reached unto the sky,
and in that field of matchless blue the eagles strong did fly.
The swans of Ossë decked their prows, while on a field of blue
the seagulls mewed and cast their eyes down on peerless view.
O Valinor! the moon did rise and with the sun in train;
but till I can return to thee there is no rest for me.

The Darkening of Valinor

O! Oiolossë, the darkness falls, the eagles fly away,
and left am I, now here alone, on land unto the sea.
O Telperion, O Laurelin, your light has left my heart;
and never more shall I see thee, for you are lost from me.
Taniquetil gleams glitt’ring white, her shining peaks reveal;
and Valmar of the Valar is veiled in mourning, for the Trees of Light are dimmed.
No longer do the Vanyar play their glitt’ring harps at dawn;
No longer are the silver horns blown bright at loss of day.
O Valmar bright! the leaves of gold shine from dying Laurelin;
and all would see Telperion and silver light therein.
Where Fëanor the Fire-eyes with all his kindred dwelt
before bright Elven-Tirion the growing darkness felt.
O Tirion! Thy crystal stairs led up to fountains clear,
and there I ran in days of old to see the morn appear.
And in the West, there by the Sea, a city gemmed and pearled,
while in the harbour docked the ships whose banners were unfurled.
Alqualondë! thy beaches fair are spread with silver shells,
while on the Sea thy white ships sail upon the crystal swells.
In Avathar a darkness rose, a shadow woke from death,
and ere the sun had risen Valmar felt the haunted breath;
The Trees, they died, the light there fled, the wells were sucked up dry,
and then the shadow left that darkened land beneath the sky.
O Valinor! I hear again sweet Valmar’s golden bells,
and how I wish once more to fly across the shining swells.
The darkness veiled, the shadow down, the Trees were laid to rest;
yet I shall long forever for the silver shores again.

~~ * ~~


by Richard F

60 years have come and gone while I travelled paths laid out in parchment bound with leather,
Witnessed by sun and moon who lit my way;
So scarce could I believe that one day those who had contributed so much would appear,
Rising out of darkness to stand before me;
Whispers in the wind, the ringing of steel, voices rising in joy…in song…in anger…
and in sorrow;

So much to comprehend and yet here they were…
Smeagol who held my fear,
Gollum who bore my pain,
Gandalf who taught me wisdom,
Aragorn who gave me strength and courage,
Bilbo, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin who taught me never to judge by appearance.

Those and so many more who influenced me, now lending those lessons to new generations.
Once more the door opens and the path beckons … leading them on to new adventures,
Oh how I envy them for the wonders they will see, and yet I hope they
never loose sight of the dreams and stories which made them who they are.

“Dedicated to J.R.R. Tolkien”
“and the many whose lives have been influenced by his writings over the years!”

“Special Thanks to Peter Jackson”
“Well Done – A Compliment from the Heart”

~~ * ~~


The Song of the Skin-Changer

By Hali Ravenhammer

My skin is fur
My senses alive.
Many of us
Our species thrive.

Then fires came
And burned our lands.
We ran from our homes
Into enemy hands

Wolf and Bear
And Hawk and Fox
All of us caught,
Bound with iron locks.

From my prison, trapped.
Heckled, tormented.
While I watched them die
My kin, I lamented.

A proud race were we,
Reduced to dust.
Here, alone
My bonds start to rust.

One of the few
Weak and critically ill.
It’s my turn to fight
And my child I must kill.

He is so pale
And is going to die.
But holds his head up
And refuses to cry.

The changes takes it from him
All of his strength
And to him I run
But I’m stopped at arm’s length.

I cradle his head
My tears falling fast
Until his eyes close
And his soul is now passed.

They jeer and they laugh
Those who hold me
And in a blind rage,
I fight till I’m free.

Blood pours from my veins
As I run through the wild
All I can see
Is the dead face of my child.

On the brink of death
I can hear a voice
Soft as light
Giving me a choice.

To stay in my sorrows
In my ache and pain.
Or to break from cage
And my kin rise again.

I will avenge you
I promise my kin.
Until every captor is dead,
And our pride I will win.

Years ago there were many,
And now there is only one.
The weight in my heart is crushing.
Now, in the night my song is done.

~~ * ~~

Lie Still, My Love (From Arwen To Aragorn On Their Last Night Together)

by BlackFox

Lie still, my love, lie still
The hour, it is early still
Sleep, my love, sleep
The dark is yet too deep

Rest, my love, no rush to wake
Not yet, ere the day’s break
Wait, my love, no need to go
Let the river of dreams flow

Lie still, my love, don’t leave
The night still has songs to weave
Lie still, my love, let it be
I beg you, stay here with me

~~ * ~~

A Question

by Tyler A

The Ring-Bearer and his faithful Samwise,
Spent half year trying, the ring, to destroy,
Battled by Sauron, evil was his guise,
With merciless might, haunting the poor boy.
Ever peering through the eyes of his spies,
Sauron searched for the West’s trick or decoy,
Battling with hate, the Ring-Bearer’s allies,
The Dark Lord hoped, Men and Elves, to destroy.
Aided by faithful friends, the Ring-Bearer
Took the lost ways and the evil paths East,
These problems you gave for their time to bide,
Yet, why did the ring-bearer not take use
Of the eagles, on whose backs, he could ride?

~~ * ~~


by Claire G

I want to go back to the days
When all was wild and free;
And all of us could laugh and dance
The springle-ring under the trees.

I want to go back to the days
When darkness did not reign;
When hope and happiness endured,
And love would conquer pain.

I want to go back to the days
When the lands were lush and green;
And flowers bloomed on hillsides,
And sunshine was our queen.

But long over are those days;
Claimed they have been by the past;
Now a dream cloaked in darkness
Where hope can barely last.

It’s the reality we face
It’s the toll that our lives pay;
And now, when they’re all over,
I want to go back to the days.

~~ * ~~


Posted in

The Great Hall of Poets – October 2014

Lament for the Fallen

by Mrs. Adam C.

Like the faintest breath of air
your life is to me.
When ages pass, I shall remain,
and you shall cease to be.

Here I lie alone, with you
ever dwelling in my mind;
Painfully I watch and wait,
for I’ve been left behind.

War, the thing that keeps us torn
from each other’s loving arms.
Threatens to devour you
and do the world more harm.

Shall I wait here, my dear love,
for tidings of your defeat?
Or shall I sail across the sea,
with memory of our love, retreat?

It is the tragedy of your kind,
and the gift to the Edain,
To live or die, in peace or war.
While Eldalië live on in vain.

Our love with loss forever bound,
and with uncertainty,
Bitter or sweet, I have to choose:
I have weighed them carefully.

Namárië, Eldamar!
Your white shores I shall not see!
Undómiel shall never come,
lest death deliver her to thee.

Tears of bitterness and grief
flow down my weary face.
Lúthien, I know your pain,
to love the fallen – from grace.


A Lone Traveller

By BlackFox

A lone traveller, homeward bound,
seeking comfort in the dark the night has found.
His heart is heavy and his brow is grim,
for his feet are weary and his eyes are dim.

But the road keeps winding on and on,
through woods and fields and valleys cold.
No company save mist and moon,
for the wind’s begun to sing the autumn’s tune.

Then, passing by the halflings’ land,
he comes to a sudden stand –
a soft whisper! a glimmer of light!
behold! silvery shadows in flight!

Away, a golden shimmer dances on the leaves,
caresses ash and oak, then disappears.
And the night is back to silent, chill,
but the man, he dares not move, stays rooted still.

He does not know what he has seen,
and yet his eyes are filled with tears.
And though a hint of sadness still lingers in the air,
new strength it gives him, the lone traveller.


Heir of Numenor

by Brianna

He lives in exile as a ranger,
He is the chief of the Dunedain
Skilled with bow and blade he is,
The last of a noble line

He bears the ring of Barahir,
He wields the sword reforged
Elessar, Elfstone, descendent of Isildur
Aragorn, heir of Numenor

Minas Tirath is fading
And the white tree is dead,
Gondor is in ruin
The white city will not fall to Boromir you said

The days of the Stewards are passing and gone
The sword that was broken is forged again
For days of light this is the dawn,
He bears the love of the lady Arwen

Justice and peace will he bring
When he is crowned rightful king
A great warrior is he, and learned in lore
He is the heir of Isildor

Aragorn is rightful king
Over the great realm of Gondor
Justice and peace will he bring,
Love and joy will he restore

Peril and exile has been his lot,
Yet never power has he sought
Come Elessar, king of men,
Restore the days of light again

Fight the shadow back,
Crush it at it’s core
Estel, hope, for the world of men
He fears the heir of Numenor

Kingly among the sons of men
He comes to claim his rightful throne,
Hope he bears and will he bring
Behold the Return of the King!



by Cillendor

“To Rivendell, where elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and wild one rides in haste,
To find the peace the stories tell.
All worthy of a painter’s quill,
For who in long the time stood still,
The Eldar laugh and sing about
Their valley of no ill.”

Cillendor said “I composed it as an acrostic, so the first letter of each line spells out IMLADRIS. The literal English translation is provided as well.”

Imladris, ias edhil ui-dhorthar / Rivendell, where elves always dwell
Mi bairth nu chithui lanthir / In fields beneath misty waterfalls
Lêdh pen trî laid throe a nîn / Travels someone through fields wild and wet
Adh îdh bennen vi bint hîr / And peace told in stories finds
Dan i ribas lû Imladris hâf / Against the flow of time, Imladris sits
Renn adh i degil e-deithor / Remembered by the pen of the artist
In edhil gledhir a linnar o then / The elves laugh and sing of it
San imrath i ú-hâf naid thoer / This valley that has not anything evil


Ode to The Hobbit!

By: Phoenix

Filled with adventure
and courage,
hideous beasts
and fire dragons,
with heroic characters
and triumphant kings!

With a black cover
as dark as night
and the golden tipped mountains
to the red setting sun.
Has delicate smooth pages
and careful binding.
Filled with writing of pure genius!

Like fine wine aging with perfection
and as beautiful as the
stars, themselves.
The Hobbit is a god
with mighty power
and a flower full of color.

The book
it pulls you into
a world like no
A work of singular

Posted in

The Great Hall of Poets

ArwenReading_revisedWelcome 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
One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.


Posted in Creations, Fans, Headlines, Poetry

The Great Hall of Poets – September 2014

Ring Cycle

by MarSilvanus

The smiths of Eregion they learnt,
Long ere the fires of Sauron burnt,
To forge the Rings, the art of things
And power in shapes and forms to hold,
Fate sealed in Ring of Gold.

The dwarves in Moria they dwelt
And taught the elves to metals melt
And so create, with hammers shape
The mithril, silver, bronze and gold,
In shapes and forms to hold.

The Rings of Power the elves then forged
And Sauron on their wisdom gorged.
In fair disguise he feigned surprise
When Three Great Rings the elves did mould,
In mithril, bronze and gold.

He saw them not, so Seven more
For dwarves he wrought from precious ore,
And then still Nine with jewels fine
As gifts to Men for falsehood sold,
In Rings that he did mould.

But One still stronger he did make
Hid deep in Mordor: earth did quake
And fires stirred. The elves then heard
His true intent: his powers bent
In heated wrath and malice cold,
Falsehood that he sold.

One Ring he made to rule them all,
Ensnared all but the Three to fall
Under his power and since that hour
As Lord of Rings he ruled of old,
In wrath and malice cold –

Then Middle-earth in Shadow fell,
The Lord of Rings cast his dark spell
And none could stand against the hand
Of blackness that this Ring did hold,
The Lord of Rings of old.

But still against him in defiance
There formed a desperate Last Alliance
Of Elves and Men, they stood again,
Their banners blazed with courage bold,
‘Gainst blackness he did hold.

They marched on Mordor and won back
Much of their realm from Shadows black,
‘Til that Dark Lord at last came forth
In heated wrath and malice cold,
Before their banners bold.

Gil-Galad Elven King was slain,
And Elendil Elf-Friend in vain
His great sword drew – it broke in two,
The West failed at Sauron’s stronghold,
With wrath and malice cold.

But Isildur, son of the King,
With hilt-shard cut off Sauron’s Ring
From his black hand in a last stand:
Thus severed power the Ring controlled,
Failed at Sauron’s stronghold.

Then Sauron fell in grim defeat,
The Shadow fled from his dark seat;
He lost his power, and since that hour
His strength it waned, but still remained
And hid in secret’s shades untold,
Power that the Ring controlled.

Isildur took the Ring to keep,
But lost it to the River deep.
Fate’s blow did wield in Gladden Fields:
For this Ring did dark thoughts enfold,
In secret’s shades untold.

There long it lay in mudded ground
‘Til chance came and at last ‘twas found.
Its malice black then sprang its trap
Possessing mind took precious hold,
And did dark thoughts enfold.

Its poison wore its bearer down,
Drew out his life. Far underground
It lay in wait, attending fate,
Beneath the Misty Mountains cold,
And mind took precious hold.

The Dark Thought waxed though ever hidden:
The Ring perceived, and left, unbidden.
By chance or luck it was picked up:
The tables turned, the tale evolved,
Beneath the Mountains cold.

The Shadow grew, and back it fled
To Mordor and its ashen bed.
The fire reburned, the dark returned,
And watchful peace again was nulled,
And so the tale evolved.

One Ring he made to rule them all:
The Ring has heard its Master’s call.
Whilst light devoured from brooding tower
With growing power has hour by hour
Our fates ensealed in Ring of Gold,
And peace again is nulled.

One Ring he made to rule them all:
The Ring has heard its Master’s call.
One Ring to Find, to Bring, to Bind,
The Lord of Rings rules, as of old,
Our fate with Ring of Gold.


Lord of the Rings Poem

by Jordan K


The light of the Eldar wanes & so the light of Men
The oncoming Shadow lives with Morgoth’s spin
Yet the fell trees will sing in the wood again
The royal seed as meant to be sent
The ‘White Tree’ will bloom in Gondor’s win
Saruman couldn’t stop the Rivers rage
Hobbits will change history in the Third Age
Isildur’s bane will resurrect the pain
Isildur’s heir will pave the way
Dwarves hide from the outside as the Old alliances die
The frost from the North is stormy tide
Angmar is on the Dark Lord’s side
Cry and weep for the fall of Arnor
She has no shield or armor anymore
The ruins exclaim the failure of Numenor
Praise the Maiar who defend the ‘silver cord’
The Sea calls us back to shore for the time is short
The Eagles swoop down as a last resort
Mt. DOOM fumes with poisonous ash & dust
Sauron makes war on us with an Eye of Lust
Disguised in light as a fair form to trust
The Island was crushed & it sank into deep water
Elendil sailed to become Gondor’s father
Elessar carried the light of the Evenstar farther it seems
The Farthing was saved by Gandalf’s dream
The Shire remains to remain evergreen
Elves make music as they dance and sing on distant shores
Remembering no more all the ‘dark lord’ made sore
There are no more foul memories to hoard
No more talk of spider lore or faithless orcs
No more black speech or the screech of enemy hordes
The Road goes on and on as grace affords
Anduril comes down from the ‘elven lord’
A Dunedain ranger reclaims a re-forged sword
It’s called the ‘Flame of the West’
In the words of Gandalf the Grey
‘May the days of the King be blessed!’


Away in Middle-earth

By Elodrin


Away in Middle-earth,
You shall see a star,
Alone with not another,
To talk to in their whispers.

To talk to in their whispers,
About all the other stars,
The stars of all the other Elves,
Who float above the sky.

This lone star is Eärendil’s,
Who was an Elven mariner,
And had the luck and luck it was,
To float above the Heavens.



By BlackFox


The red crowns of rowan-maidens fair
and gowns of silver mist on bodies bare.
The first shimmer of autumn sun
on treetops glistenin’ pale as gold.
The gentle chill of days unfold;
summer’s past, winter not yet begun.

The scent of moss, the sound of leaves;
the silent tremble of dreams unseen.
Dreams of days long gone, forgotten,
and days yet to come, things yet to happen.
The touch of autumn, sweet memory,
the nature’s feast, field and wood its treasuries.

Long hours bath’d in wind and rain;
tears of the sweetest pain,
with no drop shed in vain.
To wash away the weariness,
a small prize to pay the dreariness.
The sorrow shall pass,
fleeting and flicker’.
The pearls of frost on the grass –
no heart can be bitter!



by Kenneth C


Grey warriors fell and grim,
a shadow host of nine men dim,
swathed in clothes and cloaks of black,
riding upon midnight steads along hidden track.
Servants to their Lord,
bound to him by an eternal cord,
walking the paths of the dead
and yet among the living, or so it is said.


The next three were all sent in by Frederika G

*Editor’s note:  Please remember to read the submission rules, and only send one poem per month*


Arwen’s Song:

The sun fell over the shore
The moon claimed her silver throne
The stars shined upon the hill
As I dived into the sea.

Dreaming eyes stare at me
Follow me deep into the stream
Losing faith I felt so weak
The coldness came as I dived still in.

The night`s rage became my fear
Her deuce chasing me with gear
The darkness kept him on my road
Shores of flames burning my hope.

Oh how I wish to be home
The place I once called my lore
Golden wheat growing near
With you there on our realm.

Sorrow has come as I saw you
Down there dived by the same stream
I sailed to you but with no gain
You were far, the end was near.

I wish the moon was not so cruel
The darkness fade as we could rule
Shores to ride with you my heart
Our love to last with eternal chant.



A witch came upon my dream
Read the dark that lays within
Demons lurking into the night
As my past faded into the light.

An elder king warned his rage
Upon the mighty northern race
Wrath he called down from the sky
Once the battle became their cry.

I dreamNt the skies turned to ash
Raging storms piercing their eyes
Riding the winds of fire and snow
Their strength became his eternal fall.

Slash of the burning steel
Carved his hands into the sea
Curse of his eyes the crimson fiend
As he came to claim his ring.


Far beyond the raging sea,
Breaks a dragon iron ship,
Awaits long for you to see
The fair of your carving dreams.

As she came,
Across your way,
Bend your love,
Before her sway.

“Cry no more,
Abandoned soul,
Come to me,
Become my sword.

I shall gain,
Your power arm,
You shall pray,
As I am your god.

Blessed you are,
As I am your shell,
Howl your heart,
The serpent`s fall.

Hear their screams,
They died in vain,
As you came,
Became their bane.

Make your way,
Through their edge,
Torch their eyes
Upon my scent.

Raise your chant,
Upon the skies,
Call the vile
Regain my shine.”




Posted in

The Great Hall of Poets

AragornReading_RevWelcome 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
One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.


Posted in Creations, Fans, Poetry

The Great Hall of Poets – August 2014

The Lay of Eowyn

By William Diehl

Now, hear the Lay of Eowyn,
A shield-maiden of yore,
Who lived her life in fealty
And loyalty, and war.

In Meduseld, King Theoden
Had no daughter of his own,
So he bade his sister’s child live
With him in his great home.

A lovely maiden of golden hair
Known all across the Mark,
But a shield-maiden must prove herself
At the coming of the Dark.

It happened many years ago
Before our age had come.
Evil fell upon the Rohirrim
And no more songs were sung.

Across the fields of Rohan
And the grasses of the Wold,
Invaders from a far-off land
Rode fearlessly and bold.

Though Theoden was wizened,
He bore a majesty of old.
He sent the mighty Eorlingas
To East and Western Folds.

Upon the west the invaders crept,
The orcs of an evil lord,
Where Theodred, son of Theoden
Met doom by a goblin-sword.

To Theoden, King of Rohan, this news
Dealt a mighty blow.
By evil counsel Theoden was
Convinced that he was old.

But from the North came a mighty sword,
The blade of Anduril.
The lost king of the western lands
Had come in times of ill.

This proud man’s name was Aragorn,
Son of Arathorn by birth.
His grand arrival in Meduseld
Brought happiness and mirth.

He approached the lofty dais
Where Theoden was set,
And suddenly he saw Eowyn
Who smiled when they met.

A finer warrior she had never seen,
This man of jet-black hair,
His face was proud of bearing
Though his hands showed signs of wear.

And he beheld a shield-maiden –
So lovely yet so stern,
A woman of strength and beauty
For which any man would yearn.

Then Theoden and Aragorn rode
To battle in the West,
Leaving Eowyn to think of them and
Manage Meduseld her best.

Across the grass of Rohan came
Tidings of victory!
Now, the mighty warrior Aragorn
Would come for her to see.

For many days she waited until
Finally, he returned.
She was overjoyed to see him
But shocked with what she learned.

He announced that in the morning he
Would go upon his way,
Leaving lonely, anguished Eowyn
In Meduseld to stay.

She begged to come with Aragorn
As he rode away to war.
But Aragorn would have her not
And rode out from the door.

Soon Theoden, the King, returned;
A battle he had won.
But preparations were underway,
For war had just begun!

A muster of the countrymen
Prepared to travel east,
But Eowyn was to be left behind
To guard their hall of feast.

A night passed in unhappiness,
No comfort from the moon.
Indeed no morning ever came,
Only the Dark of Doom.

But Eowyn was resolute,
She the King did not obey.
With mail corslet and silver sword
Among the men she made her way.

With the Eored of the King she rode
Through many perilous days,
Yet though she knew the danger
She would still not turn away.

At last the mighty Rohirrim
Came to the battle-ground.
And Theoden of the Riddermark
Led a charge of great renown.

Through countless ranks of enemy
His proud horse, Snowmane, flew.
Their banner he hewed to the ground,
Their leader Theoden slew.

The Rohirrim had changed the tide
Of battle on that day.
The fearful Darkness on the land
Began to go away.

But suddenly there was horror
As men looked toward the sky.
For they heard a screech of terror
And saw a shadow flying high.

Alas, the King of Darkness on a
Fell-winged steed had come,
So Snowmane reared with terror
Dumping Theoden to the ground.

Poor Theoden’s days were over as he
Was pinned beneath his steed,
With the ever-nearing evil wraith
Contemplating wicked deeds.

But Eowyn had observed the King
As doom upon him fell,
And the shield-maiden began the deed of which
Many tales would tell.

The evil wraith approached the King
To desecrate the dead.
Although the men were paralyzed
This maiden felt no dread.

Defying the dark she leaped from her horse,
Running to her liege’s side.
The fierceness of the shield-maiden
Made men’s eyes open wide.

“Come not between the Nazgul and his
Prey,” the Ringwraith said,
“Or he shall take thee to his land
Where thou wouldst wish for death.”

“Dost thou not know the prophecy,
No man may hinder me!”
These evil words of terror made
Men loath to watch and see.

“Thou dost not look upon a man
But a woman of the Mark!”
And as she threw her helmet down
Her hair lit up the dark.

“Be gone, foul dwimmerlaik,” she said,
“You stand before my kin,
For living or evil dark undead I
Will smite thee if I can.”

So firm a challenge her had not had
In this age of the land.
He charged the shield-maiden, a
Great mace in his hand.

He, with a screech, the mace let fall,
It broke her shield arm.
But suddenly with a cry of pain
He wheeled in alarm.

A Halfling, holbytla, had travelled
From a far-off land to war,
And seeing the peril of Eowyn
Had come to lend his sword.

As the Nazgul stood above Eowyn,
His mace raised in the air,
The Halfling’s sword thrust in his leg
And a howl went through the air.

The Ringwraith stumbled backward, now
Helplessly in pain,
For now the labors of Eowyn had
Not all been in vain.

Her sword she raised above his head,
Though none could see his flesh,
And driving her sword into his face
There came the howl of death.

The sword splintered and fragmented,
Eowyn fell to the ground.
The black breath was upon her
And she lay without a sound.

She was borne with honor from the
Field to the Tower of the Guard,
Where rested she among the slain
Of countless soldiers hard.

But ho! The mighty Aragorn to his
Kingdom had returned.
He won the battle on the field whence
Of Eowyn he heard.

“The hands of a King are healing hands,”
Said Ioreth the Old,
And Aragorn, the long lost King,
Knew healing arts of old.

He saved the valiant Eowyn
And left her to grow strong.
For he had still a war to fight
And soon he hurried on.

As Eowyn recovered, she
Longed for battle still;
A shield-maiden must prove herself
In times of dark and ill.

She met a young man, Faramir,
The ruler of the Tower.
For he too had been nearly killed
In Gondor’s darkest hour.

For Faramir this shield-maiden
Was a pleasant sight indeed,
And soon he fell in love with her
Though him she did not see.

Her heart on another man was set,
That ranger of the North.
She longed for news of battle
As the messengers rode forth.

But now the tidings darkened,
Turning new hope to despair.
And Faramir and Eowyn
Together began to fare.

The two proud warriors fell in love
Upon the Tower of the Sun.
And suddenly the tidings came that
The final war was won!

As all the western lands rejoiced with
Hard-earned victory,
The shield-maiden made it known that
Faramir’s wife she’d be.

The two were joined in happiness
As all the world rejoiced,
While all the blessings of Gondor and
The Rohirrim were voiced.

The two dwelled in Ithilien,
Land of eternal spring.
The two lived ever in happiness
Where birds and minstrels sing.

Oh, here is come the end of the
Lay of Eowyn-
The shield-maiden of the Mark; the
Princess of Ithilien.


The Fellowship

By: Olivia B

I shall came back in spring
when gold leaves fall from trees.
I shall come sit by the river
and dream of the seas.

I will come back to the mountain,
and look upon brethren who died.
Then I will dig down in the dark
for the true silver metal hide.

I will never come back home,
but my soul shall go to the hall
of my father’s kindred history,
now hear my horn’s last call.

I must win my crown back by right,
and correct my ancestor’s bane.
I have used the sword that was broken,
to start the dominion of man’s reign.

I will go back now across the seas,
for my work to bring peace here is done.
I have used magic, wisdom, and fireworks
so the hobbits can keep having fun.

I shall come back in summertime,
to my hole ‘neath the hill with round door.
I have saved my lovely Shire land,
but my calling is to a distant seashore.

I came back to the lover I left,
to my garden and hedge’s home.
I have been the most faithful companion,
but my heart wants a hole to roam.

I came back from battles with plenty,
and served as a white tree guard man.
I left my home as a fool, but lo
I returned a great soldier of the land.

I shall come back a new, wiser hobbit,
for I saw war but pain did not stop me.
I fought with horse lords in a great battle,
and saw sights I never thought I’d see.


Arwen’s Song

By Elessar’s Queen

We met at dusk in Imladris wood;
He called, “Tinúviel!”
As Beren called in years long past,
Far west of Rivendell.

In Lórien of singing gold
We met at length once more;
I plighted troth to Arathorn’s son
On Amroth’s hill of lore.
I turned away from Elven-home
And gave to him my love;
Immortal life I rejected then
And naught could my heart move.

Estel went far a-journeying
Till war inevitable came.
Through Eru’s grace Ring passed away,
The Shadow fell in shame.
In City of Kings our hands were joined
At midsummer of year;
And though he’d kingdom, wealth, and power,
‘Twas me he held most dear.
But at long last his years were spent;
He lay in Silent Street
As still and cold as hardest stone.
Our son took Estel’s seat.

I chose to bear the Doom of Men
That day so long ago;
I now must bear the Doom of Men,
Would I or would I no.
I’ll not be conquered at last test –
I who renounced the Foe.
There’s life past death, His gift to Men,
Relief from bitter load.

My mortal love, I grieve for you
Beneath these fading trees
Of what was once fair Lórien,
Forsaken for the seas.
I too now lay me down to sleep
Upon this hill of ours,
To lie, perchance, forevermore
In nature’s golden bower.

O Elbereth Gilthoniel,
Your daughter Arwen sleeps.
O Eru, take me to Your land
Beyond the Sundered Seas.



By Lindariel

The fairest world ever seen
washed by springs of water clean,
Overflowing with fountains of mirth,
the world: Middle-earth.

Trees and grass and hills full fair
and Elves, with shining golden hair.
Men in their tall mighty halls
and the Eagles, with their piercing calls.

Dwarves a-delving in the deep,
heights and hills that leap
Their sunny peaks from end to end;
their tops, the fluffy white clouds mend.

The Hobbits in their sandy holes
living somewhat like the moles;
Food and pantries and other things,
caring not for rich bright rings.

But Middle-earth remains fair –
fairer than the brightest star;
Unworn by greatest thought and care,
and all sorrows flee upon the air.

The Elves sing and dance by streams;
their sleep is blest with fairest dreams
Of Valinor, that Elven-Home,
and crashing waves with silvery foam.

The Men, they dream of fame and pow’r,
not of grass and golden flow’r.
Helpless in ther misery,
in their silver livery.

The Dwarves’ dreams are of rocks and jewels,
uncovering great sights and pools.
Thinking thoughts of lust and lore
and never dancing on the moor.

The happy Hobbits have no cares
of evil cruelty and lairs;
They live a life of perfect ease
revelling in the grass and trees.

The Dúnedain, the dour Men
patrol the Shire, and many a den.
Silent and watchful in the dark of night,
they’re seldom seen but at twilight.

The People of the Mighty Sea
in the seawashed weathered lee;
Living in that tall stone tower,
commanding Dol Amroth with great power.

The Eagles of the heights see far,
and nothing can their eyesight mar.
Free like creatures of the air
untouched by thought, word and care.

The stars in the bright-studded sky
look down on all the world’s sights.
The whole earth from end to end they see
from stream to rushing Sea.

The Sea rushes and foams
and the golden sand it ever combs
With gentle, peaceful waves, dark blue
while tiny shells the high tide saves.

The secret Elves live in high trees
revelling in the shade of trees.
Passing silently, unnoticed by many,
Wand’ring o’er the untouched fen.


The Hands of the Air

By Kangi Ska

I stand within the space of a breath
Alone—Outside of time
And the shapes of the clouds
In the hands of the air
Are turned to beasts from dreams
We never share.


“I Want To Go Back To The Days”

By Claire G

I want to go back to the days
When all was wild and free;
And all of us could laugh and dance
The springle-ring under the trees.

I want to go back to the days
When darkness did not reign;
When hope and happiness endured,
And love would conquer pain.

I want to go back to the days
When the lands were lush and green;
And flowers bloomed on hillsides,
And sunshine was our queen.

But long over are those days;
Claimed they have been by the past;
Now a dream cloaked in darkness
Where hope can barely last.

It’s the reality we face
It’s the toll that our lives pay;
And now, when they’re all over,
I want to go back to the days.


The Final Rest

By BlackFox

Pale and white
Hills wrapped in shadows
Stars still ‘n’ bright

Pearls of silver
Shrouds of mist
Night’s hand wrote down
In its wonders list

And silence sang
My lullaby
As the winter’s hang
Grew ever tight’

Forever shall I remember
That frozen hour
When my dreams had yet to turn sour
The ease of heart
The final rest
Before my will was put to test



By Rebecca M.

His name meant wise by experience
Yet that knowledge he did not want
Knowledge of what lay in the shadows
Of Mordor black.

His name meant wise by experience
He did not want to go
And see the Eye seeking him
Through the shadows of Mordor black.

His name meant wise by experience
And looking at those he loved
He could not let the Eye seek them
Through the shadows of Mordor black

His name meant wise by experience
And wisdom he got each day
Showing mercy and carrying his burden
Through the shadows of Mordor black

His name meant wise by experience
Now he is home, his burden released
Yet the shadows still haunt him
The shadows of Mordor black.

His name meant wise by experience
He left long ago, seeking peace
Yet with peace that he saved his friends
From the shadows of Mordor black.


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The Great Hall of Poets – July 2014

Lament for Boromir

By Cassie

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.


The Argonath

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.



By Lindariel

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.


Lady of the Evenstar

By Elodrin

Lady of the Evenstar,
Pure white skin without a mar,
Hair as black as the blackest coal,
Gentle, but strong as a month-old foal.

Lady of the Evenstar,
With a Man her heart travelled far,
Chose to lead a mortal life,
Yet a life that to her was free from strife.

Lady of the Evenstar,
Unbendable as an iron bar,
Give me what I wish today,
A gem before your feet to lay.


A Death of Fire

by Feagin

What did they do,
Within those halls of stone,
To send him upon us?

I had warned them,
That awakening him,
Would kill us all,
But they did not listen.

So now we shall die,
In a hurricane inferno,
Brought to us,
By the dwarves.

I shall die,
A death of fire,
But I refuse to fall,
Unless that beast falls with me.


Smaug’s Threat

By Rebekah B.

Smaug & Bard

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