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 poetry@theonering.net
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.

The Elite Eight Battle “MiddleEarth Madness” (Bilbo vs. Thranduil)

By Hoyt H.

Verse 1 Introduction

He fought the spiders,
He found the ring,
A friend of Strider,
The named of sting.

The riddle maker,
Who walks unseen,
The arkenstone taker,
In his coat of green.

Hobbit hole dweller,
Red book writer,
Great tale teller,
And goblin fighter.

The elven king fooler,
Who escaped in a barrel,
Defeating the ruler.
And his wood elves feral.

Thranduil is beaten,
Bilbo already won,
There’s been April fools cheating
But the battle is done!

Vote For Bilbo today,
Take the book from the shelf!
And vote away,
The C.G.I. elf!

Verse 2 Hoping For Bilbo

Thranduil the CGI elf,
May pose as a great deal of wealth,
But Bilbo the great,
Made it to the elite eight!
So BILBO I drink to your health!

Verse 3 Bilbo Is Losing

To all the free peoples of Middle-earth,
vote for Bilbo show you worth!
Thranduil elf of Mirkwood wild,
May be by Lee pace well styled.
But Martin Freeman is the best!
Bilbo first. And then the rest.
The eleven king may wear a crown,
But the Hobbit is world renown!
Let’s cheer on he who found the ring!
And vote out the petty elvish king.

Verse 4 Bilbo Seems to Have Lost

Here in mourning we gather around,
Distant weeping the only sound.
Bilbo has fallen and the elf king remains.
My strength falters my power wanes!
The ancient king of elven lore,
Will walk the Forrest for many years more.
The Hobbit was beaten by Thranduil the elf,
A worthy foe who treads with stealth.
This blonde opponent with his elk and sword.
Has defeated the hobbit who stole the worms hoard.
A new group of fans has conquered the old.
Over Bilbo the wise, they chose Thranduil the bold!
While a worthy opponent the others ask why?
Why not Bilbo? Is there no good reply?
Our heads hang in sorrow, we weep in our woe,
For fans of Bilbo’s it’s been a low blow.
Wiping our brow we press on without fear,
We’ll vote again for ring bearer next year!

Verse 5 Treachery Unmasked

In the depths of defeat I hung my head,
Thranduil lives and Bilbo’s dead.
So weep in profusely I penned a rhyme.
Tolkien truly was dead this time!
But in utter sorrow, I checked again!
The hobbit who journeyed through stream and fen,
Lives again alive and well,
They tricked the poll with some program (or spell)
And now again the hobbit walks,
Over shire roads of cobble stone rocks.
Eating, running, reading maps,
Freeing dwarves from spider traps!
My sorrow gone the joy won’t pass!
Toast the hobbit raise your glass.

Verse 6 Message to the Cheater

A message to the traitor,
Where ever you are,
Being a hater,
will not get you far.

You cheated on an on line poll,
In doing so hurting both teams,
You betrayed the trust like a true troll,
the web discovered your schemes.

Today we stand both hobbits and elves,
Some in victory some in defeat,
To the tolling of sadness and victory bells,
You must go back to your seat.

Some are happy that Bilbo won,
Some morn the fallen elk rider,
The elite eight is finally done!
You’re squashed like a spider!

~~ * ~~

A Lament for Lothlórien

By Mrs. Adam Cartwright

In the fading summer’s light
before the coming of the night;
Once more will go walking I,
while upon the trees, leaves lie.

Alas for land of my heart!
Lórien, of Valar’s art.
I sing for thee though darkness fall;
the last of Elves, fair and tall.

Land of woven golden trees,
far across the Sund’ring Seas!
Will I ever more see thee,
over sea or leaf-filled lee?

Ah! my song for Lórien,
under tree and over fen;
Passed to silence, deep and grey
within a land, dark and fey.

Mordor’s dreadful darkness weans;
yet stronger is Lothlórien’s sheen:
The Elf queen protects it yet,
though Lothlórien’s doom is set.

For the Elves pass to the West:
they are strong; have passed the test.
They diminish; leave their land
to what? Dark Lord’s doom-filled hand.

Alas! Lórien, shining bright,
before the coming of the night;
Shadows fall on thee by day,
passing is my mournful lay.

In the fading summer’s light,
before the coming of the night;
I forsake the golden land
for the glories of the sand.

Valinor awaits me yet,
alas: my final doom is set.
I shall pass into the West,
a future dearest and best.

Golden leaves in one last spray
fall gleaming in sun’s last ray.
Farewell, Lórien the fair:
my spirit light wind shall bear.

O’er the Sund’ring Seas so cold,
across Grinding Ice of old.
My feet shall fly: air shall hold,
to the land of Lórien’s lord.

Namárië, nya muin lóriendessë,
Minórë uin nya mell Lothlórien’s nosta –
Farewell, belov’d golden lee:
land beyond the Sund’ring Sea.

~~ * ~~

A Sonnet for Elrond

by Hali Ravenhammer

The smallest speck of starlight and I once again feel your
arms around me. They sheltered me when the bitter wind blew,
and we were safe, in a world of our own. You whispered sweet words into
my delicate, but scarred mind; trying to will the ghosts away with your love.
Tears roll down my face and onto you, as the screams echo again.
Our last goodbye, my love, you kissed me with burning heartache. As the
ship sailed away, and your body grew smaller, I was reminded of the nights,
where you would make love to me, our minds and bodies as one.
How my hands itch told hold you again, to feel your skin against mine…but
your ship is not due for many years, so I stand alone, looking out at the night,
As we had once gaze, at the starlight.

~~ * ~~

Middle Earth: “A Hopeful Farewell”

By: N. Sokol

I remember that day, when you and I first met,
Your lands so green, underneath my first steps set,
And hilly little houses, underneath your grassy ground,
Home to a tiny race, it rather hard be found,
Like a peaceful village, or much like a nest,
A distance afar, laid far the mid-West,
Over mountains’ mist, down over its ridge,
The Shire’s Hobbiton, crossing Brandywine Bridge.

It happened so fast, the way you told me these things,
By the hand you took me, then gave me wings,
Off to an adventure, you dragged me along,
Through panic and danger, but also feast and song,
Through your realms unknown, of amazing kind,
Those further East, and one hard to find,
Erebor and Mordor, both places you’ve named,
Within your story, they both were framed.

Over mountains high, and hills far wide,
Over stretching rivers, and lakes of pride,
Through cities huge, and ruins of old,
Through weather dry, and icy cold,
We’ve faced the evils, and all the goods,
In caves down deep, and darkest woods,
From Orcs and Goblins, Wargs and Scouts,
To Dragons Gold, and a Ring of Doubts.

Every year, you’ve had a story to tell,
Of weirdest things, on your lands that dwell,
Of Hobbits and Wizards, Dark Armies and Legions,
Of hidden places, and your border regions,
Gave me reason, and a hope that I’d stay,
Then left me sudden, without a day,
Took away, what I now call home,
Left me without, a place to roam.

With Sting in my hands, yet here I stand,
With my Armor old, and memorial sand,
In hope you’ll return, with more stories to tell,
Again that you’ll put me, under your Spell,
Where Heroes arise, and Hordes will fall,
Where nations strong, stand wall to wall,
An adventure once more, and another quest,
But for now I wish you, a “peaceful” rest.

~~ * ~~

There were a large number of wonderful poems submitted for April, thank you to everyone who sent them in. You can see all of them here, in our Great Hall Archive.