Welcome to The Great Hall of Poets, our regular 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 firstname.lastname@example.org 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.
Memories of the Second Age
By H. Wiggins
We look to old days, and hold to them fast. When woodlands were green, and Arda still young, From Autumn to Spring, and days now long passed. Of rings and their lords, and sonnets once sung. Before Elves crossed the west in ships of grey, And Fellowships were formed to follow their road. When Dwarves delved deeper into the fray, And men’s lives were long, the seas their abode. The shadows linger, though chained they were thought, And the light of two trees fades into night. Peace will not last, though for long it was fought. Alliances form to carry the light. Free folk will stand true and Sauron will rage For these are the days of the Second Age.
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When the world troubles me, and all good thoughts have fled, I venture off to visit, the cabin inside my head. Seated before a woodstove, gazing at radiant coals, I sip slowly at my coffee, not worried by endless goals. High up within the mountains, nestled beside a brook, my entrance, a round doorway, similar to that Hobbit book. Sanctuary, peaceful haven, surrounded by fragrant pines, when I’m in need of solitude, it’s stored inside my mind. I do not travel far, to fish, to read, to dream. I merely close my eyes, conjuring a magical scene. Sunsets and brilliant sunrises, appear beyond green hills, mist above blue waters, helps me to gather the Still. When the storm comes calling, I quietly slip away, to that nearby cabin, in a solitary, peaceful bay. © Copyright 2018 by Tom Frye
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