Even the most light-hearted of groups have their serious moments. The result is makes for some very enjoyable reading!
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Hobbits come in Pints
Tho' half-pint sized is what the hobbits be;
they can't contain their hearts in vats so large.
When outsider folk look on it's small they see,
but hobbitude would overflow a barge.
Tho' Gandalf saw there's more than meets the eye,
And rangers stayed and watched them from the wood.
With envy elves would shake their heads and sigh,
And long to be like hobbits if they could.
With pipe and food they kick back by the fire,
That's how to be a hobbit in the Shire.
The Real Valentine
Legolas and Strider are fine,
The hobbits adorable, too.
But none of these fellas are mine,
And can't hold a candle to you.
That Boromir dude is just swell;
His death at the end made me weep.
Hubby, you in my heart shall dwell;
Those others can all take a leap.
I might watch the movie again.
I might talk of it constantly.
You patiently listen, and then,
Say: "Let's watch the movie and see."
My love for the movie may fade.
I'll wonder what it was about,
but for you I'll remain unswayed,
And of that, my love, there's no doubt!
Tribute to Sam
Samwise Gamgee should be giv-en his due,
How many simple folk would go against
their common sense and seek their certain doom,
And stand by Frodo when the end commenced.
Of hobbit folk we would not quite expect
A gard-en-er to make it to the end.
He earned from all both honor and respect
He shows us what it means to be a friend.
Tribute to Sam II
Pots and pans and flowers and shrubs and trees,
Two fat coneys and taters with some herbs.
Sam clips the hedge and listens on his knees
Until Gandalf by silence he disturbs.
"Ain't droppin' no eaves!" Poor Sam does protest.
But punished for his love and sent along
On Mordor's edge stout Samwise passed the test
by hobbit sense alone outshone the strong
And in the end the hero of our tale
Sam the wise, the hobbit who did not fail.
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I Need a Sam
If Frodo is the courage
that helps me do what I must do,
Then Sam is the little voice
that helps me make it through.
But Frodo is not strong in me;
he'd rather run and hide.
A timid, frightened hobbit
is what I am inside.
I fear that Sam may tire of me
and leave me on my own.
Sometimes his voice seems very faint
and I feel all alone.
I wish I had a real Sam
to help keep my burdens light.
But more, I wish my Frodo
would learn to stand and fight!
Would I find their better qualities
if I dug down deep inside?
For I could use their strength and guidance
as down life's roads I ride.
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Sonnet of Goldberry and Tom Bombadil
There once was a maid, the fairest of fair,
Robed in silver-green, like river rushes,
Gold was her girdle and gold was her hair,
And she sang old songs to birds in bushes.
Her eyes, they were blue, forget-me-not shades,
As bright and clear as the sparkling water,
Her skin, white lilies, which grew in deep glades
Goldberry was she, the River's daughter.
She once met a man, strange, joyful of mind,
Who was master all, the land and the wood.
He sang aged songs with a voice that was kind
Making new ballads wherever he could.
He wore bright colours to ward off the dark,
A swan's feather in the top of his hat.
He wed sweet Goldberry, voice like the lark.
Their home 'twas cozy as brown river rat.
Still live there do they, in seasons like Spring,
Aiding Hobbits, in the Quest of the Ring.
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Lament for Boromir
Boromir, O Boromir,
beyond the veils of earth you tread;
What watches keep you, there Beyond?
What greets thy sword and great horn's song?
Rauros, mighty Rauros falls
keeps close the secret of thy rest,
Yet of one ship the whispers speak,
and one last voyage to the Sea.
Thence no tale hath ever told
if Sea or Stars claimed thee at last,
but I shall look not to base earth,
for thou wast made for other work.
Are you a captain of a guard
that keeps the watchtowers of the night?
Tall and stern I see thee now,
with stars of Peace upon thy brow.
Do you stride a path of stars
between the Void and mortal Earth?
Do you keep evil from the skies,
and swift as night bid Shadows fly?
Look to night's great dome and there!
a star in fiery arc doth fall;
Is this but dust from heaven spent,
or celestial foe in last descent?
Boromir, O Boromir,
sound out thy horn and call thy host;
As once thy sword defended earth,
may heaven know true knighthood's worth!
Springle-ring Song
Oh, the Springle-Ring
is a wonderful thing,
it goes along lickety-split,
with a hi and a ho
and arounding we go,
and that's the first part of it.
There's a leap and a bound
and some spinning around,
kick up your heels if you like!
Around and then back,
with your hands give a clap,
and we all whirl away to the right!
We sing and we dance
at most every chance;
if there's not a chance, then we'll make one!
Let's all have a toast
and a cheer for the host,
and Springle until the whole day's done!
The Lion and the Swan
A poem of Éomer of Rohan, from musings by his bride, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth
I dream of seas beneath a prow
That leaps upon the surging waves,
And winds that toss and whip and run
Upon a distant watery realm.
I dream of sea birds crying high
Above familiar rampart walls
Whereon I watch and there! afar
A white sail gleams on homeward reach.
I dream of green beloved ways
Where once I fared in childish quest,
For magic in a daisy's face
And mystery 'neath a maple bower.
A silvered wing on salty airs
Soars high above and far beyond
And with it wings my questing heart
To shores beyond a distant sun.
But now my seas are waves of grass,
And winds bear rumor from afar
Of snow upon the frowning peaks
And rain on stern and silent hills.
The very air is scented strange,
The breezes murmur parchment dry,
Caressing like an old maid's hand
Yet comfort will not find me so.
The vault of sky bears not a sound
And 'midst that endless whisp'ring space
I shrink within, a small, lost thing
Cast far upon the winds of chance;
Far from that long familiar hearth
Where blessed voices ring and laugh,
Swept like the gull on tempest gales,
Alas my homeward shores are lost.
Now hark! A step within the hall,
And comes the master of this house.
He paces like a tethered lion,
This golden king, this warrior's son.
Pale eyes burn with kindled flame
And strength and power rest in his hand;
Born to hauberk, sword and spear,
He is the Mark; the Mark is him.
But oh I see a light within,
I feel a trembling in his touch.
So soft his lips touch mine and then
He smiles into my eyes and speaks;
Sweet words that lift my heart awhirl
And banish shadows hurrying.
My love has come and in his hands
My heart rests like a nestling bird.
For he is mine and I am his;
The lion and the swan abide,
One soul within our separate hearts,
As river joins with restless sea.
For though we come from lands apart,
One borne of sea, the other sky,
We twain are joined in matchless bonds
And all he treasures, so shall I.
I am his and he is mine;
My king rests in my cradled arms,
His golden head upon my breast,
Whilst slumber doth caress his brow.
Sleep, my king, my matchless love,
And rest 'til duty calls thee forth,
For I shall guard thy gentle rest
As thou hast guarded e're my heart.
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Birthday Poem
Green and blue, gold and brown,
Come with me to Hobbit-town.
Grass and sky, grain and earth,
Shy-bold hobbits filled with mirth.
Black and red, earth-bone grey,
Come and see the dwarvish way.
Torches light on hard-hewn stone,
Long-bearded dwarves, all alone.
Green and silver, starry-white,
Come see the elves in their twilight.
Rustling leaves and salt-sea spray,
The light-hearts sail and fade away.
Blue and brown and gold gone grey,
Come to where we men still stay.
From birth to death is a short span,
Outlasting all the world of man.
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So let's begin on the journey through mountains, snow and fire
And start with Sam and Frodo leaving the Shire
Walking through the fields, they were met by Pippin and Merry
Who soon led them to Bucklebury Ferry
The 4 hobbits went to the Prancing Pony in Bree
And there they had beer, food and tea
There they met Aragorn also known as Strider
Known for being dangerous folk and a great fighter
Breakfast? Elevensies? Luncheon? Afternoon tea?
Dinner? Supper? Aragorn knows them, doesn't he?
They head for Weathertop where they will sleep for the night
But when the Nazgul come, they must put up a fight
On Weathertop Frodo is stabbed by a Morgul Blade
And into the shadow world he will soon fade
But Arwen an elf soon comes to their side
And there are 5 Wraiths behind, they must hurry and hide
Nin o cithaeglir, lasto beth daer
Rimmo nin Bruinen dan in Ulaer
In Rivendell, Frodo's life was spared
And the council of Elrond was being prepared
To the council came strangers from distant land
With dwarves, hobbits, elves, and man
Here the fellowship is created with the group of nine
And here they must start, with little time
Then Bilbo gave Frodo his Mithril and Sting
And attempts to get hold of his old ring
The Fellowship makes there way through Caradhras
Yet Saruman will make it hard for them to pass
Lost Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!
Sleep, Caradhras, be still, like still, hold your wrath
With no choice, they must go through the Mines
Where Gimli talked of a nice welcome, just like in the old times
Annon Edhellen edro hi amen!
Gate of the Elves open now for me
With the password Mellon to open the gate
The fellowship enters, without knowing their fate
It is a dark four-day journey to the other side
Hoping they would go unnoticed, there was nowhere to hide
As the company moves, hobbits, dwarves, men, and elf
They come upon the great realm of Dwarrowdelf
Now Orcs and a Cave Troll the fellowship must fight
Everyone, even Pippin and Merry, was filled with might
Quick! To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!
Yet they were stalled by a very loud boom
For this new devilry, a Balrog, a demon of the ancient world
Approached with his fire completely unfurled
One by one, the company ran over the bridge of Khazad-dûm
Yet Gandalf stayed back, to meet his own doom
I am servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!
The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!
Though Gandalf rids of one of their foes
He is now lost in the shadows
Though very grieved and filled with pain
The 8 must make way to Lothlórien
You are coming to us...is as the footsteps of doom...
You bring great evil here, Ring-bearer
Eight that there are, yet nine there were
Spoke Celeborn in a light so pure
Galadriel spoke to the fellowship, filled with tears and cry
Welcome, Frodo of the Shire, one who has seen the eye!
Galadriel possesses a mirror that shows many things
Things that were, things that are, and some things that have not yet come to pass
What Frodo saw will come to pass if he should fail
The quest stands upon the edge of a knife, stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all
I can not do this alone
You are a Ring-bearer, Frodo. To bear a ring of power is to be alone
As the company left Lothlórien to move afar
Galadriel gave the light of Eärendil, their most beloved star
Now they must go on a different path
And they come upon the Argonath
They stopped rowing, and took rest on the western shore
But they did not know what was coming, but they knew there was more
There was a shadow under threat growing in Legolas' mind
Something drew near, that they should find
Boromir attempts to take the ring from Frodo
The ring has taken him, as if he was the foe
Now Frodo does not know whom to trust
The only one is Aragorn, which he must
Sting was glowing blue, and the Orcs were coming
Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn were fighting
Boromir is hit with bows and arrows of the Uruk-Hai
But Aragorn comes to his aid, with his tension high
Boromir kept his honor and he fought bravely for the fellowship
Especially trying to save Merry and Pip
Boromir died without even a moan
While Frodo was to leave to the western shore alone
But Sam attempts to come with him too
I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee. And I don't mean to. I don't mean to
Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn were not to follow them to the other lands
For Frodo's fate was no longer in their hands
Frodo and Sam look over Mordor, the journey they must take
Hoping that the others' journey is much more safe
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Dúnadan´s Vigil
When dark was night and cold was watch
And time was told by thumbing notch
For times to say an ancient lay
I long´d for breakfast, sleep and such.
´Gainst prowling orc and Easterling
We took the Breehill ´neath our wing:
But oh! I long for morrowsong,
When true men like the ainur sing.
To keep the peaceful multitude
From Sauron´s loathsome servitude
We have to watch and thumb the notch
Though chill of night may damp our mood.
But morrowdim is breaking there!
And birds are singing ev´rywhere!
The silent hush by warbling thrush
Was sweetly broken, swift and fair!
The sun is rising, gold and red!
- For joy of larks the dark hath fled! -
Though cold is yet and dewy wet
I love to see the light it shed!
But better yet is morrowsong,
Since then the ainur with us throng
The throne of Heaven ´bove the seven
Stars that make a journey long.
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Siwrneion
Removed from all the things they love and know,
Across the miles, in dark, lonely lands,
Pulled down by so much misery and woe,
And all alone - two figures holding hands.
Not big enough for what they had to do,
Though so many things did on them depend.
For good or bad, they had to see it through,
And struggle on and on until the end.
Afterwards, when it all is said and done,
There's no more sadness, no more pain at last.
In all the darkness they had found the Sun,
Their only comfort was that it was passed.
For be they tired, be they weak or small,
Together they have triumphed over all.
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A Psalm of Eru
I wept before the making of the World,
Hearing in perfect clarity the song in its entirety,
Knowing all the suffering that would accompany the joy.
Yet I desired it, and it was so.
I wept before the breaking of the World,
For I knew Melkor would not change his ways,
That before he fell so many would diminish on his account.
It was for him I created My Ents, to protect My creation from My creation.
And I saw it, and it most certainly was not good, if only for that age.
I wept before the saving of the World,
For the pain of the nine-fingered one,
Short a finger, yet endowed with a third hand- My hand- in all he did.
And for the death of all he held dear, if only in his heart.
And tomorrow I may very well weep again,
Yet think not on that;
Tonight, we shall dance.
On a Friend 'Fallen'
The hobbit-orcses tell me that he has fallen,
Into shadow, fighting flame,
While elf, dwarf, and man, peasant and king, stood watching.
Yet none could save him, none even tried.
Was there no power in Caras Galadhon or Minas Tirith?
Did the blood of Thorin fail him in his own land?
These were the best of their race, chosen by the all-knowing Elrond
To storm the gates of the Dark Lord!
And they, even they, could not save one so wise and brave as Mithrandir?
The three races must have grown weak indeed.
For an age has passed since I left my stronghold here in Fangorn,
And none have visited me here.
No one cares for the trees as I do,
And I care for no one as I care for the trees.
No one but Gandalf, and now no one at all, for Gandalf is no more.
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At Last
My heart weeps
My heart soars
I have at long last
Seen IT once more
My heart laments
My heart sings
For the agony and triumphs
Of Frodo's battles with the Ring
My heart is empty
My heart overflows
For the deep anguish of Pippin
As Merry cradles him close
My heart cries
My heart is struck dumb
By the powers of friendships
That shall defy all evils to come
My heart weeps
My heart soars
For in some way I too
Shall never be the same as before
Gríma
How a single tear trickling down
The ghastly face of an evil man
Can say so much
And move one's heart.
Even a blackened soul like that
Can be confronted by malice beyond its ken
And regret.
Estel
(dedicated to Debbie, the non-LoTR fan who loves Aragorn)
Evil times and evil men
Have come upon us once again
Good crushed Evil long ago
With courage and skill, sword and bow
But Evil has a staying power
And now grows stronger by the hour
So Evil has a face once more
Thousands of faces right at our door
Rain beats down hard
As do their spears
Savage growls grow stronger
As do our fears
Evil times call for better men
To rally our courage once again
We had no time to seek such a man out
Who could banish our worries and our doubt
Suddenly from amongst us he came
Intense eyes burning like two blue flames
Grim of face yet so steadfast
He made us believe that we could last
Now true courage has a name
And our hope is reborn
In this one remarkable man
By the name of Aragorn.
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A Man I Did Not Know
A Lament for Just a Guy from Gondor
I did not know the man whose path I crossed upon the shore,
Our eyes they met but briefly, my thoughts bound in tales of yore.
I turned to hear the gifted voice of that of whom I'd seen,
But in an instant he was gone, just footmarks of where he'd been.
Starlight shone ere brighter, moonlight cast its chilling glow,
And my heart, it fell to sorrow of one man I did not know.
Tears fell lonely, tears fell silent; tongue tied, gasping, I did weep.
I knelt in sandy crossroads, where death's cold waves did sweep.
Alone I wept, mid starry splendor, touching footprints fading fast,
But past my tears, night did reveal new marks in moonlight cast.
Uplooking saw I others weeping at his departure, too in grief.
Joined in sorrow, our eyes were wet, decrying death's cruel thief.
In mourning, grasping hands of comfort I struggle to move on.
With your kin of heart I'll raise my voice frail in your sweet song.
With words and color, thought and knowledge you did touch my heart
Farewell, Oh friend I did not know, in peace may you depart.
A Tribute to Tempus
On fair night sat I drinking Heaven's glory from afar,
In stillness I watched and night burst forth a shooting star.
So small was I beneath such twinkling glory,
For my small eyes alone, a bright new story.
Its short lived splendor faded fast, thought I.
I grieved for one past moment with heavy sigh.
Mere lass, who spied the shining light by chance,
Alone I felt, a witness there, by mere lucky glance.
The night wore on, and in I made for rest.
I spoke softly to friend, stranger, creature and guest.
Around me folk mingled, in my heart sorrow grew deep.
Alone I lay quiet then, but my torn mind found no sleep.
Again I rose, to find solace and peace from my worry,
Perian, Elf fair, Valiant Men, and women and those furry,
Friends still there, eyes sparkling like stars at me.
I saw captured there that same light of one star free.
So late did I find a bond I did not know tied us.
Alone seemed the glory for each eye, and then hearts cried thus,
Yet all eyes had watched the bright star shoot above,
Alone we grieved, joined we mourned, and found that we loved...
Tempus
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The Lost Black Stallions of Edoras
The Lost Black Stallions of Edoras,
Call out through my dreams,
Calling me to some forgotten scene,
That I cannot find anymore.
The Beauty of the Mallorn Trees,
Prick at my memory,
Awake, I see them in their glory,
But the memory fades away.
The Peaceful Green Hills of The Shire,
Sing me to my sleep,
Underneath the party tree is my place to weep,
As Middle-Earth slips from my grasp.
Rivendell in Winter
14 February, 2003
The trickling streams are frozen,
The sounds they make are dull,
The elves no longer are woven
In this land; they have heard the gull.
Rivendell in winter creeps into my mind,
Silence is beyond the time when it was golden,
The waterfalls still crash; there is no sign
Of the elves within the little wholly silent glen.
The trees have lost their majesty,
The buildings are sculptures of ice,
Middle-Earth now always feels tragedy,
Rivendell in winter silent as mice.
Hobbiton in the Morning
Inspired by farmland on the 35 bus route that takes me to college, 14 February, 2003
I sit upon the shore of the lake
of Bywater snoring,
Around me the hills of Hobbiton
glisten in the morning,
Fog and freezing grass are
jewelled in my sight,
The sun gives us all a
warm golden light.
Pots and pans are sounding
in the morning breeze,
I lie back and smoke my
pipe with ease.
The Shire is my homeland
and that is all I say,
I hope that I will remember
forever this joyous day.
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Galadriel's Words to Frodo
The wellspring of your eyes surrenders much
You cannot speak - so many words in silence flowing
Upon those crystal streams: sorrow, fear...
You cannot hide from me
The burdens that your heart keeps all alone
And will not share.
Reveal your cares to me, Ringbearer,
And let me grant you hope in trade:
For all these things with time
Shall fade - the good and ill alike -
According to a doom once laid, before even the elder days,
In which still we play a part,
Small or great. Some call it fate
Or destiny: the Ring fell into your small hands,
The earth's salvation at your feet.
How can you bear this burden? Halfling of little strength
In arms or cunning wit in thought - Yet may it be
This too was preordained? That you alone can achieve
What armies massed have never dared to try
For countless centuries?
Frodo of the Shire, clear as pools of blessed water
Your eyes reveal a soul to me, both pure and wise
And yet unwearied though you have suffered pain
And more lies yet ahead to face. If by my birth on Aman's blessed shores
I have some grace to yield, then may you leave this place
Of golden trees with heart and strength rekindled by a
Light you've never seen and yet may need
In wasted spaces bleak - where glow of stars is lost
And hope an ancient memory.
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Passage through the Marshes
Dry reeds hiss,
Rattle with an unseen wind.
Mists rise from dark still pools.
Spread across the evil smelling fen.
Rotting reeds,
Sink slowly in the waters.
Dead grasses rise out of the mist.
Though nothing living stirs.
Through the marshes,
Through the mists,
Journey ever onward.
Stagnant pools,
Spread across the lands,
Pale lights begin to flicker,
Candles in some ghostly hands.
Pale faces
Lie within the pool,
Weeds entwined in silver hair.
Candles held in fingers grey and cool.
Through the marshes,
Through the mists,
Journey ever onward.
A battleground,
An age or more ago.
and now the marshes cover deep
The graves of friend and foe.
the Dead remain,
Elves and Orcs and Men,
Beneath the loathsome waters,
Of this evil smelling fen.
Through the marshes,
Through the mists,
Journey ever onward.
The Elvish Queen's Lament
Beneath the falling mallorn leaves,
The Elvish queen sits and grieves,
"The gift to Men is bitter to receive!"
It seemed to her a time so near,
The season they had wandered here.
Her choice was made on Cerin Amroth.
The evening they had pledged their troth.
To give up the immortal life.
To cleave to him and be his wife.
Eight score years had then since passed.
The end it seemed had come so fast.
"The gift to Men is bitter to receive!"
Her Hope departed, she now grieves,
Beneath the falling mallorn leaves.
The Fellowship of the Ring: Translated into verse by Frodo
(don't blame him-- it was you Sevilodorf)
{All right, By Sevilodorf}
Seeking to protect its peace,
From my home I fled,
Through the Forest and the hills,
Into the Wild, I was led.
Amidst the ruins of Amon-Sûl,
The pale king wielded his blade.
As its splinter crept near my heart,
My life began to fade.
Healed, for a time, by Elrond's Hand,
In Rivendell, I stayed.
'Til news was brought from far off lands,
And a decision must be made.
To bear the Ring to its doom,
No matter the cost that's levied.
Fate has placed this burden
Upon my shoulders heavy.
Companions, then were chosen.
The Company of the Ring.
To represent the Free Peoples
To destroy this evil thing.
From Rivendell, we went.
With Gandalf as our guide.
But by storms on the Redhorn Gate,
Our passage was denied.
Through the dark of Moria,
To stand at Balin's Tomb,
The Fellowship was broken,
On the Bridge of Khazad-dûm.
Our journey must continue,
Though hearts were filled with grief.
A time of healing we did find,
In the land of the golden leaf.
Departing Lórien,
The River became our road,
And the choice could be delayed
About which way to go.
Westward were the wars of Gondor,
Eastward, the Dark Tower.
But as I sought to delay,
The Ring worked an evil power.
As Boromir fell to temptation,
I knew what I must do.
Forget my fears and go alone,
Before the others could fall too.
As I made to go my way,
A companion guessed my mind.
Despite the evils we would face,
He refused to stay behind.
"I'm coming too," insisted Sam.
"I'm glad you'll come," I say,
"Though I hope the others
Can find a safer way."
(thus ends the Fellowship of the Ring...)
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Here
Here is real wealth, rare and bright
Jewels scattered in the dark
From dazzling rubies spreading light
To a distant star or a nearby spark
Here laughter weeps and tears have grins
As they enter into history
And time moves round to let us in
Where wisdom walks with mystery
So few would wish each gem to fit
The setting that they most desire
To walk where Fëanor has stepped
To be consumed by their own fire
So now the Eldar scorn those calls
And turn upon themselves no more
But dance together in these halls
For here we have our Valinor
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Partisan Thran the Dwarvish Elf
Once took it upon herself (himself?)
To argue a case
With a trollish face
And a big bag of tricks from the shelf
She hemmed and she hawed and she tried to make sense
Of the points her opponent did make (quite dense)
'Antimodern' he said,
'And Catholic; and dead
is (blech) modern psychiatry' - not on the fence.
Then onto his turf stepped ol' Thran, with a plan
To meet logic for logic, with thoughts, like a "man"
'I read Lewis,' said she,
'I'm smart, talk to me.'
Trying not to get mad, was the babbling Thran.
Thran's friends didn't get why she talked to the fool
Who'd insulted a mother, a job, and a thought-school
He was wrong, he was rude,
Small-minded, but dude-
He was just like Thran's uncle (but not nearly as cool.)
Partisan Thran the Elf, like a Dwarf
Is sorry for acting a little like Worf
And for hurting her friends
She must make amends:
So she sits here and wonders, 'What else rhymes with "Dwarf"?
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