{"id":104049,"date":"2017-09-27T01:36:17","date_gmt":"2017-09-27T06:36:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/?page_id=104049"},"modified":"2017-09-27T01:36:17","modified_gmt":"2017-09-27T06:36:17","slug":"the-great-hall-of-poets-september-2017","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/the-great-hall-of-poets\/the-great-hall-of-poets-september-2017\/","title":{"rendered":"The Great Hall of Poets &#8211; September 2017"},"content":{"rendered":"<h4 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Last Horn Cry<\/strong><\/h4>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\" class=\"intro\"><em>by:\u00a0Laurelindorenan<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Beside the river last he stood<br \/>\nPierced by arrows, wet with blood<br \/>\nHis great horn rang<br \/>\nThe orc bows sang<br \/>\nThose he protected screamed his name<br \/>\nHe called for help, but no help came.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">And far off, under forest eaves<br \/>\nHis brother wept beneath the leaves<br \/>\nThough dark was deep<br \/>\nHe could not sleep<br \/>\nFor every time he closed his eyes<br \/>\nHe heard again the wild horn cries.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">~~ * ~~<\/p>\n<h4 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>The Cautionary Tale of Bartolo Boffin and the Great Barrow <\/strong><\/h4>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>by:\u00a0Braag Son of Balin<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">The tale I tell today \u2018tis true<br \/>\nOf a Ne\u2019er-do-well who came to rue<br \/>\nThe day he set out from the shire<br \/>\nWith dire plans did he conspire<br \/>\nTo ferret out a fortune far from farms where up he grew<br \/>\n(In fact, his friends were far and few..)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Bartolo, a Boffin born<br \/>\nA bully whom the Baggins scorned<br \/>\nWas a trial to kith and kin<br \/>\nFor sins too sundry to begin<br \/>\nAnd so at 33, out he was tossed and none did mourn<br \/>\n(Not even Uncle Bingo was forlorn\u2026)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Rather than soil his lazy hands<br \/>\nA daring deed instead he planned<br \/>\nTo raid the Tomb of Othrongroth<br \/>\n(At tales of the dead, he\u2019d often scoffed)<br \/>\nAnd live a life of leisure laced with loot that he would land<br \/>\n(Think Furry Toesies in the Sand\u2026)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">So he set out \u2018cross the Marish<br \/>\nSwam the River (nearly Perished!)<br \/>\nHauled from Dock, and crawled cross Buckland<br \/>\n(Quaffed a few brews from a Pub he ducked in)<br \/>\nSteeled with Liquid Courage to face Forest Old and scarish<br \/>\n(In fact, it was nightmarish!)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">In fevered dreams he finally emerged<br \/>\nFrom frenzied forest fears discouraged<br \/>\nBut he knew that he\u2019d found the Barrows<br \/>\nAnd harrowing cold seeped in his marrow<br \/>\nAs he shied from shambling shades reciting dirges<br \/>\n(Poor pathetic Perian, beset by scourges!)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">At last at mighty Othrongroth<br \/>\nEdain Burial Mound of Wroth<br \/>\nHe hesitated on the doorstep<br \/>\nNo riches could compel one more step<br \/>\nAnd amid his dark despair, he turned his eyes aloft<br \/>\n(And on the air, faint echoes of a warming whistle waffed\u2026)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">A whistle heard now clearly keened<br \/>\nStronger still and pure and clean<br \/>\nAfore the wound of Othrongroth<br \/>\nIt brought memories of his family\u2019s croft<br \/>\nA soft and gentle touch of home serene<br \/>\n(and suddenly he knew how stupid he had been!)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">But before he could turn away<br \/>\nA shade of Cardolan\u2019s dismay<br \/>\nScreamed and reached to draw him in<br \/>\nLights fury flashed amid the din<br \/>\nAnd he felt his mind slipping away<br \/>\n(A feeling he sore remembers to this day!)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">When at last his wits he found<br \/>\nHe descried two eyes a-twinkling down<br \/>\nSmiling at his form supine<br \/>\nUpon the banks of the Brandywine<br \/>\n\u201cYou Halflings sure find trouble by the pound\u201d<br \/>\n(and o\u2019er the hills the odd man capered with a bound)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">So Bartolo staggered home that day<br \/>\nA hobbit changed in most every way<br \/>\nHe joined the Bounders burly band<br \/>\nAnd always gave a helping hand<br \/>\nNe\u2019er again to speak of his journey\u2019s way<br \/>\n(But the hair on his toes was ever more white than grey!)<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">~~ * ~~<\/p>\n<h4 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Heir of Durin<\/strong><\/h4>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>by: Brianna Lynn<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Dark the light that burneth now,<br \/>\nDeep within his soul<br \/>\nPain he feels and grief he bears<br \/>\nNo more can he be whole.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">The strongest yet may wither,<br \/>\nBut firm still does he stand<br \/>\nFace to the wind and back unbent<br \/>\nAn image of long gone glory grand<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">No crown there is upon his head<br \/>\nNo robes or throne nor kingly bed<br \/>\nYet stern his visage now declares<br \/>\nThe place of king which he now bears.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">None can turn his steps or will<br \/>\nAnd ever he seeks vengeance still<br \/>\nThis doom upon him now does lie<br \/>\nTo find peace at last only to die.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">~~ * ~~<\/p>\n<h4 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Bilbo and the Ring<\/strong><\/h4>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>by: Austin M.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Once lived a hobbit, safe, secure, content.<br \/>\nAll of his wits and pluck he\u2019ll use real well<br \/>\nWhile on a journey long he all but spent<br \/>\nUnder the misty mountains tall he fell.<br \/>\nAs Bilbo Baggins fumbled blindly \u2018round<br \/>\nA tunnel dark not opening behind<br \/>\nHis hand hit something cold upon the ground.<br \/>\nA ring then thought no more about his find.<br \/>\nBut what will happen to the ring of gold<br \/>\nThat Bilbo accidently found and kept<br \/>\nWrought by Sauron in malice, hate, and heat<br \/>\nThe many flames of Mordor flamed and leapt<br \/>\nAs Dark Lord forged this ring of vile hate.<br \/>\nUnknown to him Bilbo would reap this fate.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">~~ * ~~<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Last Horn Cry by:\u00a0Laurelindorenan Beside the river last he stood Pierced by arrows, wet with blood His great&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":82,"featured_media":0,"parent":80298,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-104049","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/P1tLoH-r4d","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/104049","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/82"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=104049"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/104049\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":104052,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/104049\/revisions\/104052"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/80298"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=104049"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}