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.
By Lydwina Marie
The leaves are green, the trees are cold,
for the Greenwood is very old:
Water crystal-white, flick’ring flows
like tiny dancing shafts of light.
Ah! Mirkwood, shadow of the past!
The Elves no longer wander free —
they are withdrawn; or else they flee
with age-old grief and unchecked tears.
Falls in gusting sheets of water
sparkle in their endless stream.
Dol Guldur, evil place of might,
has set fair Elves in desperate plight.
To flee or stay while darkness reigns
is the choice that is given them;
Or they may leave for Valinor,
bright land of shining golden swells.
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