poetry

Twas a cold and dreadful evening
In my bed I lay unsleeping
As the winds did rattle windows panes
On the roof a constant tapping
Like a thousand fingers rapping
Never-ending lashing of the rains
And then there came a blinding flash
To light the room as thunder clashed

This poem grew from a little stanza I made up on the spot upon meeting someone for the first time in the wilderness. (Hence why the first stanza is somewhat rocky, but I didn't want to change it!) It is a riddle with no answer, designed to make the yearning for wilderness spring up in even the stoutest Hobbit's heart when sung by an elf...

The sun above, it smiles for you
I think we should all smile back too
And make your smile so warm and true
And keep on smiling all day through

Just think of all the joy it brings
When smiling at the little things
Like flowers, bees and birds that sing
A smile should fill your heart with Spring

Whilst walking down the country lanes
Don't feel so sad should come the rain
Just let the raindrops cleanse your pain
And keep on smiling once again

I write this for you fair lady, I could not say this while I gaze at your glimmring eyes like the stars, so here i'm trying my best to let it out of my heart before

Come miss Jane.... deliver me from pain.

I gained and drained.... My life in vien.

A story I became.... with histrory All again.

Love is anew... it is all with you.

Kept it hidden... I'm in heaven.

The drawer is old
And out of sight
And in the cold
Is shut up tight
A wooden spoon
Its handle white
But all too soon
The comes a hand
To grab the spoon
From where it stands
What now is planned?

And in a flash
The spoon is drowned
In tater mash
And swirled around
And pounded hard
And crushed right down
So scratched and scarred
It never stops
Its life is marred
In pans and pots
And always hot!

Who keeps us hobbits safe and sound?
Who looks for trouble day and night?
Who'll sort it out when trouble's found?
Who'll never run away from fights?
The one who's there to put things right
And knows the whats the wheres and hows
The one whose cloak is smart and white
Oh Shirriff we salute you now!

Shores of the Sand,
Lays of the Land,
The grains between my toes,
Strong the wind blows,

The Sea! Oh the Sea!
It strives to awake me!
Soothing water,
The Elven daughter,
Shining in the Moonlight,
Ever calm, in the star-night

((Sindarin Translation. Translated Kindly by Naruvir of Realelvish.net. Thanks Naruvir!))

So open up the weathered little door
The wooden beams reach to the creaking floor
There lies inside a fading welcome mat
And nearby is a stand to hang some hats

Fine pictures line the narrow passageway
An aging clock that ticks the time each day
And vases full of roses, red and white
Beside the doorways leading left and right

A table, chairs all neatly put aside
A wooden chest, its secrets locked inside
A line of books all bound in coats of red
Await a time that they all may be read

They will not let you fall, though cruel winds blow
Your friends support you, down each road you go
Though harsh the paths through barren empty fields
As growing darkness makes all hopes concealed
With weighty doubts to make your progress slow

But take their hands and feel their friendship flow
They'll pick you up to ease you from your woe
And soon your pain and wounds will all be healed
They will not let you fall

There lived a merry Hobbit Lad
He kept a merry hole
And every day he liked to go
For merry little strolls

So putting on his merry hat
And with a merry smile
He wandered down the garden path
To walk a merry mile

And so, the Michel Delving road
He made his way along
Whilst whistling at the merry birds
All singing merry songs

He went into the market square
To buy some merry fruit
But whilst he shopped he heard a sound
A merry strumming lute