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Author Topic: The Warrior Poets' Corner  (Read 7033 times)
Digger
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Aiyee, tis a hobbit's life for me


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« Reply #15 on: October 17, 2010, 12:44:45 PM »

How beautiful and sad.  I love it.  And I hope you win.

Lilly & Digger
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Tuiliel
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« Reply #16 on: December 23, 2010, 07:26:36 PM »

Tuiliel's next chapter available at:  http://my.lotro.com/user-1027520/2010/12/23/rivendell/

For those of you who haven't followed her story, click on the Tuiliel: A Hunter's Journey widget on that page to see past chapters. Happy holidays, and happy reading!
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Tuiliel, Lady of the Silver Arrow
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« Reply #17 on: January 12, 2011, 11:58:33 AM »

Thank you, Tuiliel, for bringing my attention to this area of the forum and thank you, everyone, for sharing your work! What fun! Poetry is interesting as it is, but in the context of Middle-earth it becomes something that I don't have the words to describe exactly. I took a gamble and put some words and a simple rhyme together:

The Anemone of Wilderland

"There is a city at yonder Mount's feet,
Where once tolled bells of silver, gold, oh, so sweet!
Where the Celduin rushed o'er the city's breast,
Before running into lands wide without rest."
Thus cries the Anemone of Wilderland.

"A land long held, under yoke of fear,
Gone dwarf, gone Man, for many a year.
A worm sleeps on pillows of gold,
A treasure not seen since days of old."
Thus cries the Anemone of Wilderland.

"A sparrow weeps in the low brush;
A cry goes up from a lonesome thrush.
The raven circles yonder about,
No hope in a land barren throughout."
Thus cries the Anemone of Wilderland.

"Oh, where is the King Under the Mountain?
For to take up his throne is fain!
And when shall the Lords of Dale return?
To see you is desirous, with faces proud and stern."
Thus cries the Anemone of Wilderland.

"In this copse shall my kin wait watching,
Five, seven and nine-petalled white heads abiding,
Along the bank, low in the dell, behind the tree,
We await the day that Winderland will be free."
Thus cries the Anemone of Wilderland.

-H
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"Out of doubt, out of dark to the day's rising,
I came singing in the sun sword unsheathing.
To hope's end I rode and to heart's breaking;
Now for wrath, now for ruin, and a red nightfall!"
Digger
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Aiyee, tis a hobbit's life for me


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« Reply #18 on: January 12, 2011, 02:19:39 PM »

Bravo, good procurer!  Bravo!

Digger
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Cutholen
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« Reply #19 on: February 19, 2011, 08:23:47 AM »

Sarn Arthrad

Slow step the dwarves, on stones heavy;
In Gelion's fair stream the Naugrim wade;
Heavy axes hold they, blood stained from hewing
The fair folk of Doriath in faery cave.

Wet where our eyes from silent weeping,
Tears turned aside from bowstrings taut.
Who there could not weep for Elu Thingol;
Nor weep for those who by basest betrayed.

Silent we watch each slow step taken;
Wait while they wade into the deep.
Watch as the water climbs ever upward;
Gelion's flow makes them struggle for each step now,
As water washes above waist and chest.
Iron hauberks drag them down with each step now,
Any misstep will drag them down to the deep.

"Now," cries Camlost, "Cut down the craven!
Let swift shafts sing our song of grief."
Swift from our hands spring the deadly shafts.
Strings hum the song of sorrow unending,
Mourn for our hearts those in Menegroth murdered.
White shafts whistle a tune for our weeping,
A song that we sing as we Naugrim slay.

Red flows the flood of mighty Gelion
As deep strike the shafts that we swiftly release.
Now cry in fear the craven Naugrim,
The laugh now no longer of their murderous deeds.

Some seek to turn, to retreat far from us,
But Gelion takes them, sweeps them from their feet.
Heavy their hauberks, hard now their footsteps,
And Ulmo takes vengeance,
Takes them down to the deep.

Some try to charge, bring their axes amongst us,
But waist deep in water they wade slowly each step.
Swift strike the arrows, and swiftly we slaughter;
Slay those who slew our kin in their caves.

But lo, here is one who holds himself ready,
A great jewel glittering upon his chest.
The Naugrim king of mighty Nogrond,
The architect of all our grief.

Cunning his armour, and close are the links,
No shaft can pierce is surcoat of steel.
Around him his guard with shields ready
Doughty dwarves advance with determined step.
Bearing a brand, Camlost waits on the bank.
Awaits their the killers of his kith and kin.
Axes at arms, the Dwarves advance now,
But Camlost strikes with strength renown.
Axe falls aside as chest is struck asunder;
Dismayed are the dwarves by the doom of their king.

Fearful now, they flee to the forest,
But the forest too mourns the death of its king.
Ents catch those that evade us,
The Naugrim to Nogrost will never return.

Thus the first stanza of our sorrowful song sung,
But the sorrow's to great, I can't yet sing its last.
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Digger
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« Reply #20 on: February 25, 2011, 10:44:57 AM »

Fair Folk,

Here is an old hobbit story that I wrote in a rhyme for your pleasure.  I do hope you like it.


Love Without Reasons

A flea in a top hat feeling real hot
Went high-hopping out from a spot to a spot.
His necklaces gold, on his hand a big jewel
This Mr. Flea was really too cool.
Up a crate to a porch then over a house,
He high-jumped and landed right on a mouse.

Ms. Mousey, the dear, stepping out from her farm
Was carrying a basket hung over her arm.
She wore the pink dress she had recently sewn.
 When she suddenly noticed she wasn’t alone.
Company was something she would always prefer,
But this company was crawling about in her fur.

Mr. Flea looked around with a sniff and a smile.
This was a spot that appealed to his style.
It smelled like a rose or was it fragrance of lily?
This heavenly spot made Mr. Flea simply silly.
His little head spun and his top hat twirled
His heart leaped up. He had found a new world.

“Who’s there?” cried Mousey in a bit of alarm
She didn’t like strangers who might do her harm.
“My dearest, my sweet,” said the flea in reply.
“I give you my love in endless supply.”
“A lover, you say, come calling on me?”
Whispered Ms. Mousey most hopefully.

“Where are you, good sir?” she asked as she turned.
Her sweet lonely heart for a true love had yearned.
“I’m here by your ear,” he said as he rose
And hopped to a spot at the end of her nose.
“Dear me, you’re a flea,” she cried in a fright.
“I know your kind, your annoying bite.”

“Never!” he answered in a voice calm and strong,
“Never, my darling, would I do you wrong.
“My nature is pure.  My heart’s in a dance.
“You are my true love.  I knew from first glance.”
Ms. Mousey thought long as she stared at this flea,
And considered her heart and the truth of his plea.

“Our love is not possible. You’re small and I’m large.
“I think this a romance we could never discharge.”
“Nothing’s impossible!” cried Flea proud and bold,
“Love conquers all!  Or so I am told.”
With a gesture most handsome, Flea took off his ring.
“Here is a symbol of the love that I bring.”

“For me?” asked Mousey and squinted her sight
For the ring that he offered was dazzling bright.
Ms. Mousey knew well her long lonely days
How she lived by herself in her singular ways.
She accepted his ring, and tied her fur in a knot.
Sparkles like this were Ms. Mousey’s soft spot.

“I think we should give this romance a try,”
She announced with a small loving tear in her eye.
“My dearest,” said Flea, “we shall be happy forever
“Dancing and talking and caring together.”
And so this strange couple in no way the same
Discovered their way to kindle love’s flame.

They lived on their farm for many fine seasons
And grew old together without any reasons.
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Thrilldonus
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« Reply #21 on: April 28, 2011, 01:47:24 AM »

I am no poet, but will try. It's kind of a work in progress. I feel somewhat in awe of all the talent here, but here goes:

As they lay dying, I step to the next foe.
For it is him, or I, and my time is not now.

As they lay dying, howls of pain fill the air.
The dying scream from wounds mortal.

As they lay dying, the stench of death chokes my senses.
From the blood-soaked ground, and gore covered dagger.

As they lay dying, I live for one more day.
Death is dealt to foes of the Light.
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Tuiliel
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« Reply #22 on: July 03, 2011, 12:26:47 PM »

Two new posts on my MyLOTRO page (http://my.lotro.com/user-1027520/): a new chapter to begin Volume 3 of Tuiliel's story (just when you think Tui and El will live happily ever after, the road takes its darkest turn yet!), and a farewell tribute to a great blogger, friend, and supporter of the MyLOTRO community whom we lost this week.

For those of you who follow the creative side of LOTRO, yesterday I hosted Blogmoot, a gathering of bloggers from MyLOTRO and other fan sites. It was a lively crowd of writers, and we learned of many exciting projects underway, so keep your eyes open for wonderful new stories and articles (and even a radio show!) coming in the future. Our main topic of conversation was finding an audience--it's hard to keep up the momentum when our posts get no ratings or feedback. So just a reminder: when you see a great blog post, rate it, recommend it to others, and let your favorite writers know that someone is out there enjoying their efforts. If you're looking for some great reading, check out the Featured Scribes widget on my page for links to blogs by Linett, Gaiagil, and many other fine writers. If you discover a great blog that we may not have found yet, let us know!
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Tuiliel, Lady of the Silver Arrow
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