{"id":99186,"date":"2015-08-29T08:54:18","date_gmt":"2015-08-29T13:54:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/?page_id=99186"},"modified":"2015-08-29T08:54:18","modified_gmt":"2015-08-29T13:54:18","slug":"the-great-hall-of-poets-august-2015","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.theonering.net\/torwp\/the-great-hall-of-poets\/the-great-hall-of-poets-august-2015\/","title":{"rendered":"The Great Hall of Poets – August 2015"},"content":{"rendered":"

Entish Dreams (A Hasty Poem)<\/strong><\/h4>\n

By Braag, Son of Balin<\/em><\/p>\n

Looming loamish languid forms
\nDeep sleep I, amid the storms
\nStorms of ken and storms of cloud
\nThat batter bark encrusted shrouds<\/p>\n

The draughts I\u2019ve drunk, the rays lived under
\nThe stones my seed has riven asunder
\nHave crafted core, branch, twig and leaf
\nAnd muddled mind absorbed in grief<\/p>\n

Much is lost to forest floor
\nDecaying carpet of ageless lore
\nThe crush of memories pressing down
\nSmothering desire of sight or sound<\/p>\n

Yet walked I once from sea to sea
\nShaded by endless canopy
\nGlinted by scintillating stars
\nSlanting home in shimmering bars<\/p>\n

Effortlessly I mastered earth
\nAnd witnessed lesser beings birthed
\nWide my branches gathered in
\nThe pulse of life and choral din<\/p>\n

But rapture sought is sorrow found
\nThe Ent-Wives ache cut wounds profound
\nAs axes scoring trunk and root
\nPain unsuccored by Entish moot<\/p>\n

With witless whim, my self withdrew
\nLike cruelest winters palest hue
\nEndured but n\u2019er again embraced
\nConsciousness bereft of time or space<\/p>\n

Unburdened by this treasonous soul
\nWith waiting my most mortal goal
\nWorried not, as just a tree
\nUntil at last eternity<\/p>\n

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

Middle-earth<\/strong><\/h4>\n

By Lydwina Marie<\/em><\/p>\n

Fairest world ever seen,
\nwashed by springs of water clean,
\nFlowing with fountains of mirth,
\nthe world: fair Middle-earth.<\/p>\n

Trees and grass and hills full fair,
\nElves, with shining golden hair.
\nMen in their tall mighty halls
\nand Eagles, with piercing calls.<\/p>\n

Dwarves a-delving in the deep,
\nheights and hills that rearing leap
\nsunny peaks from end to end;
\nTheir tops the fluffy clouds mend.<\/p>\n

Hobbits in their sandy holes,
\nliving somewhat like the moles;
\nFood, pantries, and other things,
\ncaring not for rich bright rings.<\/p>\n

But Middle-earth remains fair,
\nfairer than the brightest star;
\nUnworn by great thought and care,
\nand sorrows flee upon the air.<\/p>\n

The Elves sing and dance by streams,
\ntheir sleep is blest with fair dreams
\nOf Valinor, the Elven Home,
\nand crashing waves with silv’ry foam.<\/p>\n

The Men dream of fame and pow’r,
\nnot of grass and golden flow’r.
\nHelpless in their misery,
\nin their silver livery.<\/p>\n

The Eagles of the heights see far,
\nand nothing can their eyesight mar.
\nFree: the creatures of the air,
\nuntouched by thought, word, and care.<\/p>\n

The Dwarves’ dreams are of rocks and jewels,
\nuncovering great sights and pools.
\nThinking thoughts of golden lore,
\nnever dancing on the moor.<\/p>\n

The happy Hobbits have no cares
\nof evil cruelty and lairs;
\nThey live a life of perfect ease,
\nrevelling in the grass and trees.<\/p>\n

The Dunedain, the dour Men
\nscour the Shire and many a den.
\nSilent and watchful in the dark of night,
\nthey’re seldom seen but at twilight.<\/p>\n

The stars in the bright-studded sky
\nlook down on all the world’s sights.
\nThe whole earth from end to end they see
\nfrom stream to rushing Sea.<\/p>\n

The great Sea rushes and foams,
\nand the golden sand it combs.
\nWith gentle, peaceful waves dark blue,
\nwhile tiny shells the tide saves.<\/p>\n

People of the mighty Sea
\nin their seawashed weather lee;
\nLiving in that tall stone tower,
\nruling Dol Amroth with power.<\/p>\n

The secret Elves live in high lees
\nrevelling in the shade of trees.
\nLeaving, not seen by many
\npassing o’er the untouched fen.<\/p>\n

~~ * ~~<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Entish Dreams (A Hasty Poem) By Braag, Son of Balin Looming loamish languid forms Deep sleep I, amid…<\/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-99186","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t