Welcome to the poetry page!
Eowyn has her say here....
My maids have placed
the bridal wreath
upon my head
my snowy gown spreads
in a bath of pearl
over grass and stone
I walk in a gold cloud
lilies and blossoms everywhere
pearls and diamonds,
opals and sapphires
bedew my throat and wrists...
or so I am told.
I see them not.
The only gems that I see now
are your eyes before me,
above me, around me
crystal windows perfectly set
in the sunlit tower
that is your soul.
Standing within it I can see
glittering mines, untold splendours
waiting still to be unearthed
caverns of mystery, depths unending
sparkling facets, secret streams,
oceans of treasure, undiscovered
mountains, meadows, gardens, forests
a thousand horses racing free
a host of swans that rise from the river
a sky high curving, infinite
cloudless, beaming, sun-crowned
rainbowed, wind-kissed,
darkening, star gemmed.....
and now it is all mine.
I can scarce take it in....
No blushing maiden I fear you'll find me
deflowered by bloodshed as I have been
not even my heart is virginal
having given it once to another
only to have it handed back
bruised from the touch of his gentle fingers
I let it fall, traversing the red lair
of forgetfulness and thunder
wishing only to become
the bride of death.
But you looked beyond the stains
and saw only the sorrow
the wounds, the regret
brushing it with your own anguish.
Our tears were blended
our wounds mated on garden paths
where we walked as twin shadows
trailing our sighs as tattered blankets
until the sudden morning found us
and saw purity reborn as love
rising from ash
stretching its wings
in silver fire
my glacier melted
descending in torrents
rising in fountains of diamond spray
shouting praise!
Now your eyes are fixed upon me
as you lay a cloak of stars
upon my quivering shoulders, saying,
"Wear this, Beloved, it was my mother's
now it is thine...." I am proud
to carry her stars
as the day bears the night
eternally awakening
in the rose-streaked
mists of hope.
It is the least that I can do.
Can you thank her for me
for the face to which
I shall wake each morning
for the arms that keep
the wind at bay
for the hands that bless
my skin with springtime
for the heart whose rays
shall herald my dawn?
Beautiful picture by Annie B.--click on it to see full sized
~*~Shieldmaiden~*~
"War is the province of men?"
We shall see.
I have much to live for?
To sit at home combing my locks,
mending hose, shepherding infants,
planning menus, gazing eastward
when my palm itches
to grip my bright sword?
To rule in ruins I've no wish.
Yet something tells me
there is a deed marked for me alone.
Perhaps we've each a mission
that was stamped with our name
ere the date of our making,
however we would let it pass from us,
and engrave it with another
and sit at home gazing
from an eastern window. We may each,
however tender and questioning
be the link between life as we know it
and the end of all singing. And so
we heed the dark clarion
and if it also sound our doom,
so be it. Who are we
to dismiss that trumpet, even
though it call through horse-shrieks,
ripping flesh, thunder-drums,
iron wheels, shattered ramparts-
or brotherly disdain?
Who can say that my small blade
be not destined to smite the bond
that holds this land in thrall?
Who knows what lofty tapestries
may be woven from the nettles
of stinging chaos? We each,
man or woman, great or tiny,
own the key that opens
one cage or many, releasing the future
even if it means that we ourselves
become the past, names sung only
in the ballads of the forgetful free.
We will listen, leaning
on the parapets
of the heroes' halls
and smile at one another saying:
Indeed, that bard has a fine voice
and makes his mother proud
.....
Click on wallpaper to enlarge.
~*~Shieldmother~*~
He loomed before me, a Thing
unbidden, undead, unseeable.
I breathed him
and he filled my lungs
as the smoke of perdition
and I knew. Choking, I gazed
into the channel of his lust
and beheld a vast funnel
which culminated in the pit
of utter nothingness
that awaited my cringing soul.
I saw my name crackle
on the spiraling stairs
amid the shrieks of lunatic love
that rode the boiling vortex
descending. I saw an Eye
that discerned my locked casements
and echoing stairwells.
I knew then what I could be
as my image writhed
in the flickering, jellied blackness
of its all-knowing pupil.
And even as I smote his ruin
in desperate abandon
I fell motionless
as one must
before such a likeness
each string that suspended me
from the light
severed entirely.
And even now,
as I lie in my bower
by the side of my lord and my babe
a domain of freshness surrounding,
a mantle of stars overspread;
even in our most joyous coupling
and sweetest afterglow,
from time to time I lift my eyes
and see the canopy of the Shadow
and hear the rising screech
in the stillness of the furtive hall
that lies even in the palace of blessedness
and taste the foulness I inhaled
so that you, my newborn, my jewel,
my princeling, my own, softest bloom
of my once withered heart
might breathe the tender air
and race down white slopes
that lead only to fields of delight
and gaze into dancing waters
where only the days Eye
may show you what you might be.
I would do all again
if need be.
I am your shield yet.
He may haunt me still
but conquer, never
for I am no man
and he knows naught
of the true bastion
of motherhood.
(Thanks to Farawyn for the idea for this poem, as well as the title *g*)
Literature Index | Arwen | Aragorn | Frodo | Sam | Gandalf | Boromir & Faramir | Others
Welcome to the poetry page!
Eowyn has her say here....
My maids have placed
the bridal wreath
upon my head
my snowy gown spreads
in a bath of pearl
over grass and stone
I walk in a gold cloud
lilies and blossoms everywhere
pearls and diamonds,
opals and sapphires
bedew my throat and wrists...
or so I am told.
I see them not.
The only gems that I see now
are your eyes before me,
above me, around me
crystal windows perfectly set
in the sunlit tower
that is your soul.
Standing within it I can see
glittering mines, untold splendours
waiting still to be unearthed
caverns of mystery, depths unending
sparkling facets, secret streams,
oceans of treasure, undiscovered
mountains, meadows, gardens, forests
a thousand horses racing free
a host of swans that rise from the river
a sky high curving, infinite
cloudless, beaming, sun-crowned
rainbowed, wind-kissed,
darkening, star gemmed.....
and now it is all mine.
I can scarce take it in.... No blushing maiden I fear you'll find me
deflowered by bloodshed as I have been
not even my heart is virginal
having given it once to another
only to have it handed back
bruised from the touch of his gentle fingers
I let it fall, traversing the red lair
of forgetfulness and thunder
wishing only to become
the bride of death.
But you looked beyond the stains
and saw only the sorrow
the wounds, the regret
brushing it with your own anguish.
Our tears were blended
our wounds mated on garden paths
where we walked as twin shadows
trailing our sighs as tattered blankets
until the sudden morning found us
and saw purity reborn as love
rising from ash
stretching its wings
in silver fire
my glacier melted
descending in torrents
rising in fountains of diamond spray
shouting praise! Now your eyes are fixed upon me
as you lay a cloak of stars
upon my quivering shoulders, saying,
"Wear this, Beloved, it was my mother's
now it is thine...." I am proud
to carry her stars
as the day bears the night
eternally awakening
in the rose-streaked
mists of hope.
It is the least that I can do.
Can you thank her for me
for the face to which
I shall wake each morning
for the arms that keep
the wind at bay
for the hands that bless
my skin with springtime
for the heart whose rays
shall herald my dawn?
Beautiful picture by Annie B.--click on it to see full sized
~*~Shieldmaiden~*~
"War is the province of men?"
We shall see.
I have much to live for?
To sit at home combing my locks,
mending hose, shepherding infants,
planning menus, gazing eastward
when my palm itches
to grip my bright sword?
To rule in ruins I've no wish.
Yet something tells me
there is a deed marked for me alone.
Perhaps we've each a mission
that was stamped with our name
ere the date of our making,
however we would let it pass from us,
and engrave it with another
and sit at home gazing
from an eastern window. We may each,
however tender and questioning
be the link between life as we know it
and the end of all singing. And so
we heed the dark clarion
and if it also sound our doom,
so be it. Who are we
to dismiss that trumpet, even
though it call through horse-shrieks,
ripping flesh, thunder-drums,
iron wheels, shattered ramparts-
or brotherly disdain?
Who can say that my small blade
be not destined to smite the bond
that holds this land in thrall?
Who knows what lofty tapestries
may be woven from the nettles
of stinging chaos? We each,
man or woman, great or tiny,
own the key that opens
one cage or many, releasing the future
even if it means that we ourselves
become the past, names sung only
in the ballads of the forgetful free.
We will listen, leaning
on the parapets
of the heroes' halls
and smile at one another saying:
Indeed, that bard has a fine voice
and makes his mother proud
.....
Click on wallpaper to enlarge. ~*~Shieldmother~*~ He loomed before me, a Thing
unbidden, undead, unseeable.
I breathed him
and he filled my lungs
as the smoke of perdition
and I knew. Choking, I gazed
into the channel of his lust
and beheld a vast funnel
which culminated in the pit
of utter nothingness
that awaited my cringing soul.
I saw my name crackle
on the spiraling stairs
amid the shrieks of lunatic love
that rode the boiling vortex
descending. I saw an Eye
that discerned my locked casements
and echoing stairwells.
I knew then what I could be
as my image writhed
in the flickering, jellied blackness
of its all-knowing pupil.
And even as I smote his ruin
in desperate abandon
I fell motionless
as one must
before such a likeness
each string that suspended me
from the light
severed entirely. And even now,
as I lie in my bower
by the side of my lord and my babe
a domain of freshness surrounding,
a mantle of stars overspread;
even in our most joyous coupling
and sweetest afterglow,
from time to time I lift my eyes
and see the canopy of the Shadow
and hear the rising screech
in the stillness of the furtive hall
that lies even in the palace of blessedness
and taste the foulness I inhaled
so that you, my newborn, my jewel,
my princeling, my own, softest bloom
of my once withered heart
might breathe the tender air
and race down white slopes
that lead only to fields of delight
and gaze into dancing waters
where only the days Eye
may show you what you might be.
I would do all again
if need be.
I am your shield yet.
He may haunt me still
but conquer, never
for I am no man
and he knows naught
of the true bastion
of motherhood. (Thanks to Farawyn for the idea for this poem, as well as the title *g*) Literature Index | Arwen | Aragorn | Frodo | Sam | Gandalf | Boromir & Faramir | Others