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The Great Hall of Poets

June 30, 2020 at 9:05 am by Kelvarhin  - 

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 forming mist 

by D. McGlinchey 

I saw it forming in the mist.
Like veiled curtains unravelling 
No more the dread of the unseen hand
Nor the burdening weight of a growing fear.
For there it was now, as clear as day.
A day where the colours had been drained away.

I saw the eyes of a former man.
Like glowing ice with an inner fire.
The forming mist his shroud like clothing.
Tightening, flowing, drawing in.
His ghostly face in the mist appearing.
Staring wide eyed, teeth clenched, leering.

All this I saw in the forming mist.
Lost and alone with my mind transfixed.
Danger now has come to life.
Out here in the wilds on a wind swept night.
Friends around,  yet no one near.
The forming mist giving life to fear.

Oh why, oh why did I accept this quest?
This terrible burden to undertake?
Abandoned now to this cruel dark fate,
The forming mist is moving in.
Surrounded now I begin to cry
As it hisses slowly ‘Time to die!’

Out of nowhere burns a searing flame.
Purifying the air as it sweeps and cleans.
And the forming mist breaks and fades,
Driven apart to drift slowly away.
Friends they have rallied in the wilds on this night.
With new courage, fears facing, the grim spectre takes flight.

But alas I am wounded, pierced deep to my soul.
As a blade from the mist has been found.
A serpent striking with its dying breath,
Its poison now igniting my veins.
I think of the precious clenched tight in my fist.
As my spirit turns slowly to the forming mist.

~~ * ~~

Posted in Creations, Fans, Poetry on June 30, 2020 by

Daggers of Tauriel

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