written_leaves: (bilbo)
The results of a meme that has you pick five fandoms and assigns five random lines of poetry for the prompts. It was supposed to be 50-word snatches, but mine refused to shoehorn any smaller than standard drabble sized.

I chose All Creatures Great and Small, Doctor Who (One's era), LOTR, The Scarlet Pimpernel and Watership Down.

Five drabbles under the cut )
.
written_leaves: (booktower)
Caged by men, to foe unfearing
The bars give way with courage nearing
In lines of steel her fair face tearing
Sharp, bright-edged Eowyn


An adaptation of Tennyson's Lady of Shallot for Eowyn's story, the idea was started by someone else but caught my fancy so I ran with it. I remember spending the better part of a long Thanksgiving weekend trip with a notebook in hand struggling to work this through - and yes, it's just as long. For what it's worth, I've had a couple people tell me they preferred it to the original, which was a fine compliment indeed.

The Lady Eowyn
In hall of stone above the plains )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
They may turn their eyes upon you,
And blaze down upon your
Unprotected
heart.


I don't quite know how to describe what this means - the emotive image was an overlap between Sam's star he sought in the skies of Mordor, and the aversion such purity of light that came to Smeagol over the years, along with the pure starlight of the phial that shone to protect them from darkness. Weave it together and starlight both purifies and wounds:

Starlit Scars
Do not deal lightly with the stars )
-

The Havens

Dec. 22nd, 2009 10:10 pm
written_leaves: (writing)
Weep
For those seeking the Havens,
For the land will be barren of much that was fair.


Another 'musical' one, this time for the Grey Havens and if I were a writer of music I would perhaps place it to an Irish tune with a lilt for the sea.

The Havens
There’s a waiting ship )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
Then in contentment, my searching done;
My final tale told in full, my wandering at an end,
I could recline this aged head to
Rest. In peace I could at last lay down,
And breathe out my last breath
With my Lady's name upon my lips.


Again from the Appendices as we draw the adventure to a close: an aged Gimli sets sail with Legolas, Galadriel's lock still set within its crystal. I'm tagging this with 'romance' only in the sense that it is a matter of the heart. With it I am including Galadriel's Message, which takes her message to him and uses each word to guide a full poem.

Lockbearer
Lockbearer, where have you gone? Over the seas, the wide seas to find you. )
-
Galadriel's Message
Greeting that I give you now, my Lockbearer, a bearer of heart's treasure )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
Farewell dear Love, it's bittersweet...
One last look at the barren, cold grass,
The white-starred elanor long departed

Two more from the Appendices, as an aged Aragorn chooses the ending of his days and says farewell to his Queen, who then seeks an ending of her own, in her own way. The first is written in couplets, the second in a free prose that gives an overview of their lives together.

Ending
At the ending of all my days )
-
Falling Leaves
In an unending springtime she pledged her troth )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
I will never leave you, dearest;
We will share the warm Winter of our years.
The sea will wait amid its grey mists
Long after your gentle light has been drawn away.


Sam, watching his beloved Rosie fading with age.

Fading Rose
My fading Rose with petals white where once you bloomed in gold and blush )
-
written_leaves: (illumination)
A ruined garden once, but we shall tend it, you and I
And make our home beneath its fragrant boughs.


This is the third in a set for Eowyn and Faramir, the others being Strange Comfort and Faramir in the Garden, moving forward to Ithilien - this is written with a "romantic" style of imagery and tone.

Ithilien Sunset
The scents are heady, the sights beyond dreaming. Walk with me, beloved )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
My time with you seems now an
Unreachable glory of the past,
A work of minstrels and mages.


Two more for Sam, left behind to make his life with his family and not without memories of his own.

A Rose for the Master
I hope wherever he's gone to now, There are roses in the spring )
-
I Have Held
I have held this hour in my hands )
-
written_leaves: (bilbo)
There's a ship going forth from the Havens,
And upon her that one light shone


For the Bay of the Blessed and the ships finally turning their faces towards Home.
This has been nominated in the MEFA awards for 2009.

With it I'm placing a short verse for Gandalf's role and his guidance even towards the Havens.

The Way Home
There were ships going forth from the Havens )
-
Grey
A way to a home I've never seen )
written_leaves: (booktower)
We are never alone or neglected here,
There's always a hearth and a hearty meal.
The gentle sound of the river ways;
A background murmur to our days


A toast to Meriadoc the Magnificent, Master of the Hall. This is one of my own favorites, another that I would set to song if I had the talent. I would love to live in Brandy Hall, myself, if I could.

Brandy Hall
A 'regular warren', to far-flung folk )
-
written_leaves: (bilbo)
Many pantries stocked with pastries, the envy of the town.
In this comfort dwelt a hobbit, crazy Baggins of reknown.


A light, rhyming ballad for the history of Bag End from Bilbo to Frodo to the Sackville-Baggins and finally Sam.

Ballad of Bag End
There was a lovely hobbit hole, under hill, under tree )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
He said I was meant to be whole,
And that wholeness surrounds me;
I must find a way to soak it into my heart.


And finally - "I'm back"....

This brings the 'story' to its ending for my poetry listings that follow the events of the books in order, but there are a handful more to follow, some observations, thoughts and bits from the appendices.

Back Home
Entering, I gather her in )
-
written_leaves: (illumination)
Resin beads on sun-warmed wood, glints of golden and amber

Two for the journey to the Grey Havens / Mithlond and the one waiting there. The first is a brief trio of stanzas for the three ancient Elven towers that stood above it, the other an overview of the guardian and craftsman of the swanboats, Cirdan, by the sea.

Towers
Three towers stand upon the hills )
-
Círdan
The rising breeze dishevels his silver hair - )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
The Shire has flowered after the war.
Like waking from a dream...
Coming back to what is familiar


The shock of peacetime after the shock of war, how can the pieces of the old life be picked up again?

Falling Asleep Again
Coming home in a windswept night )
-

Sam's Box

Dec. 22nd, 2009 05:56 pm
written_leaves: (illumination)
Plant it carefully, Sam

What better symbol of healing, and what finer gift? A piece for Sam's bit of earth entrusted to him, better than any gold.

Sam's Box
Entrusted to your gardener’s heart )
-
written_leaves: (writing)
So easy to intimidate, so simple to control.
What will you do
When one of them grows greater?


Words spoken by both Gandalf and Saruman of what Frodo had become - a look at the Scouring of the Shire and the 'show down' that was not what Sharkey expected.

You have Grown
I would have him find his healing )
written_leaves: (writing)
Behold the ruin, the ravaged Shire,
The trees are felled and burned with fire


Two for the ravaged Shire - what a terrible loss, and what a terrible, vengeful blow they found upon their homecoming. Merry 'should have stuffed that pouch down his throat' as he said.

Scouring
Alas for the shade and the loam )
-
The Party Tree
Eyes that had faced down great evil unflinching now burst into tears )
-
written_leaves: (bilbo)
Nodding in his carven chair
Among his cushions and shawls he sits


The Travellers return to Rivendell at last, and their beloved, aged Bilbo awaits them by his fire ready to hear all about their Adventure... assuming he can stay awake.

Nodding by the Fire
Hands like wisps of parchment )
-
written_leaves: (illumination)
Alone amidst many, yet surrounded I am

A brief, introspective piece for Legolas with an autumn theme - so far from his own forests and people, watching the brief, bright lives of mortals swirling past as leaves in the changing seasons.

Wanderer
Men, golden as leaves, how they furl and fade )
-

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July 2012

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