The Great Hall of Poets – April 2017
by David McG.
“I held the sword that was broken..and it forbade a terrible fate.
In Imladris I took counsel. Whilst it’s tidings I heeded to late.
Though stronger than spells out of Mordor, a token I let take my heart.
Now Doom is indeed close at hand , comes the Bane of my forebearers lore!
Leads the Halflings to stand by me in frozen fear….
And watch as I fall to the floor.
Out from the trees comes my nemesis. With the twisted blind hate of his kind.
Here to bend fate for his Master designs. To take back the ‘token’ I thought mine.
But fate has awakened my heritage. My pride has been tempered at last!
The Halflings….my friends, my companions. Will not fall to Mordors Dark past.
Though…. pierced….. with blacks shafts………….that bring me …….to …..
To my last!
I have given… my all…….”
~~ * ~~
Oh Humble Lad, Oh Loyal Friend
By: Mitch P.
Oh humble lad oh loyal friend,
What dreams you dream of journeys end.
Your focus fades to stories told,
Of heroes bold and magic old.
Best now for you to focus view,
On what is good for me and you.
On cabbages that leafy grow,
On taters that spring from below.
For tending life is no small thing,
A nobler cause life couldn’t bring.
Nurturing the land you know,
You give your love so things may grow.
With busy hands beneath good soil,
Your mind still drifts towards hero’s toil.
No harm you think to, now and then,
Dream of dragons, elves, and men.
A good day passes, as it will,
As night approaches cups do fill.
For working hard is fine indeed,
But finer still is day’s end mead.
As stories pass from friends and kin,
Merry making does begin.
Your place, you think, is only here,
Among your friends and family dear.
No need for life away from home,
No need to wonder or to roam.
At last you stumble to your bed,
On pillow soft you rest your head.
But something pulls you from your rest,
What is it that you haven’t guessed.
You strain your mind, then thoughts emerge,
Oh dear, forgot to trim the verge!
Racing now in drunken haze,
To fix before his master’s gaze.
The flowers by his window sill,
Trimmed neatly, will look better still.
But something odd you see ahead,
Your master isn’t in his bed.
So quiet now you must complete,
The task for which you’ve set your feet.
But odder still is what you hear,
Perhaps, you think, I’ll bend my ear.
But what you hear s’ hard to believe,
You should of never dropped no eves.
This tale you hear, it feels so wrong,
Nothing like an elven song!
What’s worse, they speak as if it’s real,
Your fear becomes hard to conceal.
One nervous rustle, then a whack!
And here you are, flat on your back,
With elden eyes he stares you down,
Your master watches with a frown.
“You’ve heard too much”, his voice does surge,
He doesn’t believe you about the verge!
He says he knows just what to do,
“Where Frodo goes, you’re going too!”
So off you go, the road ahead,
“Don’t ever lose him” s’ all he said,
How very odd that work would lead,
To what you thought you didn’t need.
So sure you were that home was best,
In wildest dreams you’d never guessed,
That you of all would play a part,
In tales you’ve held so close to heart.
Now far from home and all that’s right,
Fated now to face the night.
A dream come true, your tales begin,
Much farther than you’ve ever been.
~~ * ~~