{"id":96989,"date":"2015-02-12T00:14:44","date_gmt":"2015-02-12T05:14:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/?page_id=96989"},"modified":"2015-02-12T00:14:44","modified_gmt":"2015-02-12T05:14:44","slug":"the-great-hall-of-poets-february-2015","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/the-great-hall-of-poets\/the-great-hall-of-poets-february-2015\/","title":{"rendered":"The Great Hall of Poets – February 2015"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the Mist Upon the River<\/strong><\/h4>\n

by Mrs Adam C.<\/em><\/p>\n

In the mist upon the river
\nStill I stand and silent shiver
\nAs the reed beds wind-swept quiver
\nIn the wind upon the river.<\/p>\n

In the wind upon the river
\nSilver foams the waters driven
\nBy a slender vessel riven
\nWreathed in mist upon the river.<\/p>\n

Wreathed in mist upon the river
\nGrey the vessel silent drifting
\nTwisting currents ever shifting
\nBorne upon the flowing river.<\/p>\n

Borne upon the flowing river
\nTurns the Elven vessel, staying
\nMotionless its burden laying
\nLapped within the crystal river.<\/p>\n

Lapped within the crystal river
\nLies a pale warrior sleeping
\nShredded mist about him creeping
\nStill before me on the River.<\/p>\n

Still before me on the river
\nMarked with numerous wounds bitter
\nIn his dark hair droplets glitter
\nTossed like jewels by the river.<\/p>\n

Tossed like jewels by the river
\nAre the tears that bathe my brother
\nVain I wish it was another
\nBorne in death upon the river.<\/p>\n

Borne in death upon the river
\nClasped with leaves of golden shimmer
\nIn his hands his blade-shards glimmer
\nWashed clean by the flowing river.<\/p>\n

Washed clean by the flowing river
\nLong dark locks with care arrayed
\nAt his head his round shield laid
\nShining faintly in the river.<\/p>\n

Shining faintly in the river
\nEmerald brooch wrought \u2018neath the trees
\nHis cloak grey-green as linden leaves
\nWoven with the rippling river.<\/p>\n

Woven with the rippling river
\nStrands of radiance faintly glowing
\nLike the water round him flowing
\nDreaming vision of the river.<\/p>\n

Dreaming vision of the river
\nGranted peace and victory
\nBeneath your feet, your enemies
\nLost to darkness in the river.<\/p>\n

Lost to darkness in the river
\nYour great horn you no longer bear
\nFrom distant lands silent you fare
\nSlipping swiftly down the river.<\/p>\n

Slipping swiftly down the river
\nSlowly spinning your grey boat turns
\nBorne away never to return
\nUpon the bosom of the river.<\/p>\n

Upon the bosom of the river
\nFading the ethereal gleam
\nYet I know it was no dream
\nMy brother lost unto the river.<\/p>\n

My brother lost unto the river
\nPassing onward to the sea
\nThere to sleep eternally
\nIn the mist upon the river.<\/p>\n

In the mist upon the river
\nStill I stand and silent shiver.
\nAs the reed beds wind-swept quiver
\nIn the wind upon the river.<\/p>\n

~~ * ~~<\/p>\n

Khaz\u00e2d Ai-M\u00eanu!<\/strong><\/h4>\n

by Mirelien<\/em><\/p>\n

The sun glinted off armor of gold
\nAs the thirteen leapt to defend their mountain.
\nThorin commanded them, King in his majesty;
\nBehind him his sister-sons, bearing shield and sword.
\nCourageous contenders for Erebor’s glory
\nAgainst a great army ten thousand orcs strong.<\/p>\n

But Thorin was brave, and his bold arm strong.
\nLong had he waited to reclaim his gold
\nAnd now would he win it by works of glory,
\nTake his throne as rightful King under Mountain:
\nRaven-crown, Arkenstone, even the Elvish sword
\nWould seat him in Erebor, accent his majesty.<\/p>\n

At his side Fili, heir of his majesty,
\nStood at the ready, his lionheart strong
\nWith love for the uncle who forged his first sword.
\nArmor and hair ‘neath the sun shone bright gold;
\nWorth more than all treasure in the mountain
\nHis uncle held him and his bright glory.<\/p>\n

Kili the valiant came next\u2014not for glory
\nFought he, but rather to guard Thorin’s majesty
\nAnd that of Erebor, tall Lonely Mountain,
\nNew-found home. Hope made his arm strong
\nTo strike at his foes who would steal the gold
\nIf he failed to keep it with Dwarvish sword.<\/p>\n

Dwarvish and Elvish, Mannish and orc sword
\nFlashed in the sunlight, steel-cold glory.
\nSilver drew scarlet, streaking the gold
\nOf heart, hair, and helm, marring their majesty
\nBut not destroying. Their arms were strong
\nAnd deadly their blows in defense of their mountain.<\/p>\n

At last the long battle ended. A mountain
\nOf fallen, both friend and foe, stolen by sword
\nAnd arrow and axe in the hands of the strong.
\nLong will the minstrels spin songs of their glory,
\nLong will they tell of the Durinsons’ majesty,
\nStriving for hope, for a home and for gold.<\/p>\n

All hail the sword and its glittering glory,
\nAll hail the gold in its myriad majesty\u2014
\nAll hail the strong, the Heirs of the Mountain!<\/p>\n

~~ * ~~<\/p>\n

Choice<\/strong><\/h4>\n

by BlackFox<\/em><\/p>\n

Under starless sky, grey and cold,
\nthe Tree of Time stands bare and old.
\nAll the countless years now death’s to greet,
\nlike withered leaves laid at winter’s feet.
\nFor the world has changed, be it ill or good,
\nand light has left the Golden Wood.
\nSo it is this land ere rich and fair,
\nonce a wonder, a sight so rare,
\nnow mourns in everlasting silence
\ndays when sun was gold and stars were diamonds,
\nwhen rivers ran with song and magic,
\nwhen hearts were bold, though hope was fragile.
\nFor tho’ the Enemy down was cast,
\nthe joy was never meant to last.
\nWind brought change and withering,
\ntook the Queen and took the King.
\nNights grew long and forests quiet,
\nshadows woke from dreams defiant.
\nNow all there’s left are rain and sorrow,
\nfew lonely souls, no bow, no arrow.
\nThey wander the paths under the fading trees,
\nhearts gnawed by an eternal unease:
\nto linger on in wait of doom or fly, depart,
\nto wane with the earth or break apart.
\nFor spring again will never come
\nand yet still too sweet the memories are for some.<\/p>\n

~~ * ~~<\/p>\n

Thranduil the Elvenking<\/strong><\/h4>\n

by Eilif<\/em><\/p>\n

Thranduil, the Elvenking
\nOn meadows walks in early spring\u2026
\nHis mind \u2013 focused on the treasure hoard?
\nYet engrossed in green\u2026 the Elvenking,
\nThranduil, the old Mirkwood lord.<\/p>\n

When dark descends and stars shine bright
\nThrough closed eyes, still king Thranduil
\nBrightly remembers, in spite of his might \u2013
\nHe crosses the slopes of Emyn Muil\u2026<\/p>\n

He sees the horrors of the Dark Land
\nRemembers the omnipresent death
\nRemembers Sauron\u2019s deadly hand
\nJust like his father\u2019s dying breath\u2026<\/p>\n

And back in time \u2013 the Thousand Caves,
\nThe merrymaking \u2013 and despair,
\nThe songs and laughter \u2013 and the graves,
\nFor all there\u2019ve perished that was fair.<\/p>\n

And now, with eyes still shut in pain
\nSeated upon his carven throne
\nHis father\u2019s name he calls in vain,
\nHimself in power, wisdom grown.<\/p>\n

Ancient and strong, and yet alone
\nFor memories solitude him bring.
\nUnder the stars, on Woodland throne
\nThere weeps Thranduil, the Elvenking.<\/p>\n

~~ * ~~<\/p>\n

Heir of Durin<\/strong><\/h4>\n

by Brianna L.<\/em><\/p>\n

His long hair is streaked with silver,
\nFor the anger and loss he has borne
\nHis broad shoulders are bowed with grief,
\nHis princes braids are shorn<\/p>\n

His kingdom was taken by Smaug,
\nOn that fateful day
\nHe asked the elves for help;
\nThey turned and went their way.<\/p>\n

Heir of Durin, Son of Kings
\nDwarf prince without a home
\nHis greatest hope to retake Erebor,
\nThe splendor and glory of his people restore<\/p>\n

But he fears to enter that mountain,
\nHe saw the power of Smaug
\nBut more than that, he fears the gold;
\nA sickness lies over that treasure hoard.<\/p>\n

At the battle to reclaim Moria,
\nThe Defiler showed his face
\nUnchallenged, he killed and wrought destruction
\nWielding a blade and a five edged mace.<\/p>\n

The dwarves, they were outnumbered
\nLeaderless, they fled
\nThrain was lost and seen no more,
\nAzog cut off King Thror’s head<\/p>\n

That moment was when Thorin,
\nFull of rage and grief
\nStood against the Defiler,
\nOf all vile orcs he was the chief<\/p>\n

Wielding nothing but an oaken branch,
\nHe stood and fought alone
\nHe earned the name of Oakenshield,
\nAnd drove them back to the halls of stone.<\/p>\n

The King under the Mountain,
\nSon of Thrain, son of Thror
\nHeir of Durin, Son of Kings
\nRightful Lord of Erebor<\/p>\n

Thorin took it on himself to reclaim their rightful home
\nThere was no choice, not for him
\nThe lonely mountain, Erebor,
\nHe entered through the hidden door.<\/p>\n

When he saw the gold which shining lay,
\nGems and mithril, bright as day
\nHis greatest fear came true,
\nThe dragon sickness fell on him.<\/p>\n

Thorin rose in the end and he threw off
\nThe lust for treasure, the cursed dragon gold;
\nHe fought to the death and defeated his foe
\nAzog the Defiler he laid low.<\/p>\n

But alas, he would never see the time
\nWhen Erebor was restored,
\nThorin Oakenshield died that day
\nBy the hand of Azog, whom he had slain.<\/p>\n

Alas for the heir of Durin,
\nAlas for the fallen king
\nHe lived nobly and died bravely,
\nLet the bells of Erebor ring.<\/p>\n

~~ * ~~<\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In the Mist Upon the River by Mrs Adam C. In the mist upon the river Still I…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":82,"featured_media":0,"parent":80298,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-96989","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/P1tLoH-pel","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/96989","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=96989"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/96989\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":96992,"href":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/96989\/revisions\/96992"}],"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=96989"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}