Welcome to the poetry page!
These are from Aragorn's point of view....
~*~Upon Meeting Arwen~*~
When first I saw you
I thought I had strayed into a dream.
You flowed as a dizzying current
waters entwined in purling skeins
of shadows and skybeams,
curves and perfume and dusk.
I longed for nothing
but to cast myself in your stellar spray
and feel it kiss each inch of my skin
even if I were to be
wrecked upon reefs
of doubt and necessity.
'Twere enough to feel you
beading my senses
in liquescent gems
drowning my pores
in forgetfulness and facets.
And so I plunged in, flinging aside
the garments of all chafing caution
carried and cleansed and taught
scalded by snow, frozen by lightning.
I drank of you deeply
you hung from my lashes
in crystal fever
wept from my hair
and crinkled the tips
of my fingers and toes.
The sable ropes of your hair
kept me lashed to the mast
the unquenchable stars
of your eyes steered my course
your skin my sail
your voice the wind.
And now the harsh crags
of my soul you have smoothed.
Your pearls have I set
in scepter and crown.
I know you will wear me away
and you will flow on
bearing only my dust
in your lonely undertow.
So it must be, my Love,
until you reach the place
where all streams converge
in a clamorous torrent
uniting forever
in dark and fathomless bounty.
~*~Elegy for Boromir~*~
Be at peace, son of Gondor
Farewell, my fallen comrade
too soon you lie at rest
when this flailing earth
had sore need of your stance.
There was a legend in your gaze,
a torch in your being, an anthem
that muffled the clamor
of the hungering in your soul.
Would I could have stilled it
with the hearty bread of friendship
without the shameful help
of shaft or blade!
How did such a small Thing
come between us?
So often did my eyes
ride on your strength;
your words rolled bloodied maps
before my sight, banners that drooped
like hair of widows, children
who played with charred horse bones
and the feathers of felled doves
that chalked the streets in trampled snow.
Then I heard victorious hymns,
smelled white blossoms from a branch
that maidens plucked to strew your path
amid the metal fervor of warm bells
that once knew only silence
grey as thirst. Your laughter
was as the splashing of a stifled bath
that burst afresh from the bosom
of a haggard land.
Now all are stilled. You lie as a tree
ripped down in the summit
of its fruition, in the shadow
of a spiked and jealous tower.
Vainly will your city keep her vigil.
Vainly must I weep
for the kinship bonds of gladness
that should have been our own
the fragment of my heart
you tore from me.
But I shall strive
with what I have been given
to bear your torch, staunch the wounds
of those for whom you undertook
this mission, strew your path
and pen a joyous epilogue
for the parable of your ruin.
Brother, close your eyes,
let your spirit drift
as a sail upon the wind
that finds its truest rest
on white forgiving shores.
Dream in peace.
.
Click on picture to see full sized.
~*~Haven~*~
Walk no more in the shadows, but awake
.
I see you stumbling,
hands groping for slimy walls
that crumble at your touch
and fall away leaving nothing
but a grey fog, grey sky,
grey sea, grey ground
that shifts and lurches mockingly
beneath your helpless shoes.
Neither sound, nor smell, nor taste
nor touch, not even pain,
only the endless pall
of utter solitude.
Your lids would close, preferring
the belly of downright darkness
to this obscene cloud through which
skulled visages peer
in unabated slander.
Then at last, a faint light flickers;
a star, it seems,
blooms in the inert veil.
A fair face peers out
whispering your name
in seductive accents
warm as a dovecall
bidding you turn from
the endless sea of self
beckoning your steps
to the harbor of the void.
Heed it not, brother.
Turn your eyes before you.
See where a boat of radiance
has reached your grisly island.
To be sure, your passage
will not be smooth. Pain and sorrow
will greet your disembarkment;
your head may turn back
to that siren voice
that promises a gentler bed.
But heed not that counterfeit call.
Come breathe the silver air.
A victorious haven waits
where loving hands will ease
your tired brows, glowing eyes
would smile on your return,
shoulders of healing lean
to catch your tears. I have
no gleaming promises for you,
no citadels of shining
no prophecies of delight;
I can lay no petaled path
beneath your broken feet.
I can but show you
the gemmed and singing range
where the beacons of hope
spread their beams
throughout the fragrant slopes
where joy dwells.
My heart tells me
your true home awaits you there
if you would build it, knowing
that a battered land
still has sore need
of your industry and gifts.
Come back to the light.
Take my hand;
tis but a step
into the dawn
..
Click on wallpaper to enlarge.
Literature Index | Arwen | Frodo | Sam | Gandalf | Eowyn | Boromir & Faramir | Others
Welcome to the poetry page!
These are from Aragorn's point of view....
~*~Upon Meeting Arwen~*~
When first I saw youI thought I had strayed into a dream.
You flowed as a dizzying current
waters entwined in purling skeins
of shadows and skybeams,
curves and perfume and dusk.
I longed for nothing
but to cast myself in your stellar spray
and feel it kiss each inch of my skin
even if I were to be
wrecked upon reefs
of doubt and necessity.
'Twere enough to feel you
beading my senses
in liquescent gems
drowning my pores
in forgetfulness and facets.
And so I plunged in, flinging aside
the garments of all chafing caution
carried and cleansed and taught
scalded by snow, frozen by lightning.
I drank of you deeply
you hung from my lashes
in crystal fever
wept from my hair
and crinkled the tips
of my fingers and toes.
The sable ropes of your hair
kept me lashed to the mast
the unquenchable stars
of your eyes steered my course
your skin my sail
your voice the wind.
And now the harsh crags
of my soul you have smoothed.
Your pearls have I set
in scepter and crown.
I know you will wear me away
and you will flow on
bearing only my dust
in your lonely undertow.
So it must be, my Love,
until you reach the place
where all streams converge
in a clamorous torrent
uniting forever
in dark and fathomless bounty.
~*~Elegy for Boromir~*~
Be at peace, son of Gondor
Farewell, my fallen comrade
too soon you lie at rest
when this flailing earth
had sore need of your stance.
There was a legend in your gaze,
a torch in your being, an anthem
that muffled the clamor
of the hungering in your soul.
Would I could have stilled it
with the hearty bread of friendship
without the shameful help
of shaft or blade!
How did such a small Thing
come between us?
So often did my eyes
ride on your strength;
your words rolled bloodied maps
before my sight, banners that drooped
like hair of widows, children
who played with charred horse bones
and the feathers of felled doves
that chalked the streets in trampled snow.
Then I heard victorious hymns,
smelled white blossoms from a branch
that maidens plucked to strew your path
amid the metal fervor of warm bells
that once knew only silence
grey as thirst. Your laughter
was as the splashing of a stifled bath
that burst afresh from the bosom
of a haggard land.
Now all are stilled. You lie as a tree
ripped down in the summit
of its fruition, in the shadow
of a spiked and jealous tower.
Vainly will your city keep her vigil.
Vainly must I weep
for the kinship bonds of gladness
that should have been our own
the fragment of my heart
you tore from me.
But I shall strive
with what I have been given
to bear your torch, staunch the wounds
of those for whom you undertook
this mission, strew your path
and pen a joyous epilogue
for the parable of your ruin.
Brother, close your eyes,
let your spirit drift
as a sail upon the wind
that finds its truest rest
on white forgiving shores.
Dream in peace.
.
Click on picture to see full sized. ~*~Haven~*~ Walk no more in the shadows, but awake .
I see you stumbling,
hands groping for slimy walls
that crumble at your touch
and fall away leaving nothing
but a grey fog, grey sky,
grey sea, grey ground
that shifts and lurches mockingly
beneath your helpless shoes.
Neither sound, nor smell, nor taste
nor touch, not even pain,
only the endless pall
of utter solitude.
Your lids would close, preferring
the belly of downright darkness
to this obscene cloud through which
skulled visages peer
in unabated slander. Then at last, a faint light flickers;
a star, it seems,
blooms in the inert veil.
A fair face peers out
whispering your name
in seductive accents
warm as a dovecall
bidding you turn from
the endless sea of self
beckoning your steps
to the harbor of the void.
Heed it not, brother.
Turn your eyes before you.
See where a boat of radiance
has reached your grisly island.
To be sure, your passage
will not be smooth. Pain and sorrow
will greet your disembarkment;
your head may turn back
to that siren voice
that promises a gentler bed.
But heed not that counterfeit call.
Come breathe the silver air.
A victorious haven waits
where loving hands will ease
your tired brows, glowing eyes
would smile on your return,
shoulders of healing lean
to catch your tears. I have
no gleaming promises for you,
no citadels of shining
no prophecies of delight;
I can lay no petaled path
beneath your broken feet.
I can but show you
the gemmed and singing range
where the beacons of hope
spread their beams
throughout the fragrant slopes
where joy dwells.
My heart tells me
your true home awaits you there
if you would build it, knowing
that a battered land
still has sore need
of your industry and gifts.
Come back to the light.
Take my hand;
tis but a step
into the dawn ..
Click on wallpaper to enlarge. Literature Index | Arwen | Frodo | Sam | Gandalf | Eowyn | Boromir & Faramir | Others