Welcome to the poetry page!
Samwise Gamgee speaks here.....
you sleeping in this place
of stones, teeth, fog,
skulls and ashy dreams
my eyes reach backward
searching for colors
as alien as smiles...
blue, scarlet, yellow, green
hues of flowers
that glow and nod and wink
around your doors and windows
richer there than elsewhere
more popular with bees
an unending party
conspiratorial and daring
in league with the sun.
When first I planted them
I was very small
and you were tall, or so it seemed
to a lad of five springs.
You watched me learn
grinning and proud
defending me from bullies, dogs,
doubts, things too real and piercing
for a child's fragile garden.
Stories and songs I gleaned from you
riding on your back
when my small feet ached
with the weight of my wonder.
You saw me grow, paid me well
to do the work
I would have done free.
I called you master
but you treated me as equal.
You were my big brother
when I had none
you became my gardener
as I was yours.
The flowers you planted
in my hungry soul
grew lush and forceful
in your unblinking light.
Now I am the stronger one
as I watch you sleep
your cruel burden clutched
in your reluctant hand,
I resolve to be to you
what you once were to me:
your protector, your brother,
your lamp and your stay;
to throw you a gentle rope
when you cannot climb
carry you when your strength fails
and drive every cold and grasping thing
from your faltering bones.
Where thorns abound
I'll plant flowers with bright eyes
and give their names to my children
so they too will be filled
with wonder and poems
fireworks and dancing
and every joyous thing
that you first sowed in me
and bathed in the incomparable
radiance of friendship.
~*~Questions~*~ Why have you gone?
Why could I not save you?
Why did you never tell me
what it was you needed
or that you needed it
at all? Why did I not see?
Were you so afraid
to spoil my joy? Was I
so afraid to look in your eyes
and see what I once prayed
to be spared from seeing? If love
alone could heal your hurts,
I could have done it
a thousand times over.
Yet it wasn't enough.
All my efforts and care
have been in vain.
I've failed you. So it seems.
Now you've sailed away
taking a huge chunk
of my heart with you;
why could you not
have given it back
if it could not avail you?
I look about and think
on what I've been given.
How could gold, gems, palaces,
crowns, velvet array, sounding trumpets
ever begin to take the place
of home and family, devoted wife,
staunch friends, burgeoning garden,
trees of gold, flickering fireside,
the esteem of our folk,
every comfort any could wish?
Why could you not have them too?
Why could your face not glow
as a roomful of candles
over the tiny curl
of your newborn's fingers
about your own?
Why could you not know
the heavenly bliss
of watching its mother
suckle it in the morning light
and sing it to rest
in the evening's glow?
Why could you not have
the comfort of lying
by her side in the biting chill
of winter, the boundless thrill
of her lips and body
in the night, the waking
to her pillowed face
smiling into yours?
You who were most deserving
of all such bounty,
you who gave us hope
and took none for yourself,
pain and loss have been
your only reward.
Why must it be thus?
Now I can but turn back
wounded by the weight
of ten thousand questions
and leave you to drift
into the bright unknown
and nurse this burning
in my own heart
as best as I can
and wonder if it will ever know ease
and why it is that no matter
how much you care
for someone, sometimes
you just don't have
what they really need.
And I will just have to trust
that you will be happy
as I think you truly will;
surely they'll see to it
that you have your due
although I can't picture
what could be for you there.
Still, that will be my comfort now.
And someday I can sing again
and make rhymes for my babes
with no ache in my throat
and dream of the day
that I'll see your face
as it was, young and smiling
so many years gone
and finally know
the solace of answers.
~*~The Bridge~*~
Sometimes in a dream
I see him before me
looking just exactly
as when I last beheld him
standing in the harbour
but with the ruddy tinge
of happiness and health.
Around us is a garden
I could never have imagined
the flowers seem to breathe
and the trees to have heartbeats.
I see white marble towers
with windows of crystal glass
shingled with gold and gemstones
gleaming in the distance
topped with embroidered banners
fluttering in the breeze.
I feel almost an intruder
although the steps are silky
the air a spicy tent
with vines and shivering light.
I enter in with shyness
embraced by his smile
and the chiming of mystic bells
in harmony with birdsong
and the lullaby of the waves.
And then he clasps my hand
with a gentleness and warmth
that lingers when I waken
almost like a hat
that you can feel upon your head
long after you take it off.
He leads me to a friendly bench
and brings me tea and cakes
reveling in my wonder.
How goes it with the little ones
has the baby learned to walk?
Tell me what clever things they say
and how they do in school
the games they love to play
how pretty the eldest is growing
and the one you named for me
I know he is the smartest....
The birds start at our laughter.
No story too mundane
he would hear it all
and then to me he says:
My most beloved friend,
this land is now my castle
where illness is a stranger
and pain dare not trespass
night terrors are laid low
and burdens turned to wings
but still this glass I carry
I peer into its light
and clearly see your face
(although naught but what
you would have me see!)
The voices of your children
make the light burn brighter
the stories that you tell them
protect it from hard frost.
No sea can separate us
for memory is a starry bridge
that will ever lead you to me
no matter what dark things disturb
the hungry waves below.
Still I would have you cross it
only as is needful
lest your steps should wear it thin
and you forget from whence you came.
Your place is in the sunlight.
You must carry only joy
upon your sturdy shoulders
that should bear my weight no longer.
Then as the air grows purple
and puts on the veil of stars
he stands and holds the glass
to light my way back over the bridge
raising one hand in farewell
and once more my throat tightens
even as I remember
his final words to me:
We shall meet again
never to be parted
and only then
the bridge will fall....
~*~Last Night in Mordor~*~
We are nearly there....
A star peeps down upon us
almost as if to check
if we be all right
like a mother looking in
on her sleeping babes.
But does she tell us now
that this night is to be
our last upon this earth?
I cannot think on it!
But here, master dear,
sleep now in my arms
you are cold, sick, weary, sad
you should rest and recover
but there's neither time
nor place for it.
Your eyes that once held
joy and teasing lights
are all glazed and shuttered,
their candles dowsed.
I cannot see you there
behind the shattered panes
only grey webbing
and dusty beams.
Your door is locked.
But I will try my best
to keep the horrid shapes
away from your dreams
just for tonight. Dream instead
of a land that never knew
the stink of ash,
the savor of venom
the burn of betrayal
the black wings of war.
Think of your feet fondled
by waters cool and quick
dancing on a clovered stair
pillowed on ferns and silver reeds.
Fruit trees bow on every slope
begging for relief of their loads
apples that fit
the curve of your palm
as though you had molded them
to suit your fancy.
The sun seeks out
your juice-stained face
through every branch
to give back the light
you left behind
somewhere along the way.
Will that land be ours,
or is this all there is?
I cannot think on it!
But if this small life
is all there is for us
we will at least be able
to say we lived it well
and planted seeds of healing
for the punished soil
we sleep beneath. White flowers
will wave above our bones
like little flags that say,
"We guard our heroes here!"
I can say I knew you,
that you were dearer far
than all others--save one,
and perhaps no less dear, at that.
We were born that those
who come after never know
the path that we now tread
the stones that bite our feet
the thirst that dries our souls
we've done it all for them.
Others have done as much,
why can't we? Two soldiers
we'll be, giving our all
for those we love
and those they will love.
Our praises they'll sing
our stories they'll savor
and if there is indeed
a reward for all of this
(as I think there really is)
we'll never part again.
It's all I could wish....
and yet...
I would
that it didn't have to be
Not this soon,
anyway............... 
~*~To the One Far Away, on the Night of Yuletide~*~
Does it snow where you are now?
Do you look out on a winter
morning and see the first snow
resting fresh and soft
as a dream of sugared joy?
Do you sit by the fireplace
of an evening, light candles
and see my face smiling in
the brightest flame?
I think you are happy; often
I hear you whisper to me
when I light the first candle
of the Yuletide, and the children
are in bed, and I sit wondering
if you can see the snowfall
and if you run out to laugh at
the flakes as a happy pup.
That one candle glows
more high and bright
than all others, just as you
yourself, and I hear your voice
as a carol in the dusk
or as the first snowfall
blanketing my questioning heart
in beauty and delight;
surely you are happy
as I could not make you
however much I wished.
I'd know it if you weren't.
The stars wouldn't shine so thick
and knowing in the winter sky
the snow wouldn't fall
so tender on the boughs of fir
and pine and holly, nor gleam
so white and pure, and
the candles wouldn't bless the room
so warm and cheery, and
the flames couldn't dance
so gladsome on the Yule log
if you were looking out
on a snowless slope through eyes
of soreness and want.
My heart knows you are happy
whether you can see the snow
or no. I wish only
that it could have happened
in this room, with the candles
gathered like the shadows of stars
and that my eyes didn't need
so many tears
to see your face among them….
Does it snow where you are now?
Welcome to the poetry page!
Samwise Gamgee speaks here.....
you sleeping in this place
of stones, teeth, fog,
skulls and ashy dreams
my eyes reach backward
searching for colors
as alien as smiles...
blue, scarlet, yellow, green
hues of flowers
that glow and nod and wink
around your doors and windows
richer there than elsewhere
more popular with bees
an unending party
conspiratorial and daring
in league with the sun. When first I planted them
I was very small
and you were tall, or so it seemed
to a lad of five springs.
You watched me learn
grinning and proud
defending me from bullies, dogs,
doubts, things too real and piercing
for a child's fragile garden.
Stories and songs I gleaned from you
riding on your back
when my small feet ached
with the weight of my wonder.
You saw me grow, paid me well
to do the work
I would have done free.
I called you master
but you treated me as equal.
You were my big brother
when I had none
you became my gardener
as I was yours.
The flowers you planted
in my hungry soul
grew lush and forceful
in your unblinking light. Now I am the stronger one
as I watch you sleep
your cruel burden clutched
in your reluctant hand,
I resolve to be to you
what you once were to me:
your protector, your brother,
your lamp and your stay;
to throw you a gentle rope
when you cannot climb
carry you when your strength fails
and drive every cold and grasping thing
from your faltering bones.
Where thorns abound
I'll plant flowers with bright eyes
and give their names to my children
so they too will be filled
with wonder and poems
fireworks and dancing
and every joyous thing
that you first sowed in me
and bathed in the incomparable
radiance of friendship.
~*~Questions~*~ Why have you gone?
Why could I not save you?
Why did you never tell me
what it was you needed
or that you needed it
at all? Why did I not see?
Were you so afraid
to spoil my joy? Was I
so afraid to look in your eyes
and see what I once prayed
to be spared from seeing? If love
alone could heal your hurts,
I could have done it
a thousand times over.
Yet it wasn't enough.
All my efforts and care
have been in vain.
I've failed you. So it seems.
Now you've sailed away
taking a huge chunk
of my heart with you;
why could you not
have given it back
if it could not avail you?
I look about and think
on what I've been given.
How could gold, gems, palaces,
crowns, velvet array, sounding trumpets
ever begin to take the place
of home and family, devoted wife,
staunch friends, burgeoning garden,
trees of gold, flickering fireside,
the esteem of our folk,
every comfort any could wish?
Why could you not have them too?
Why could your face not glow
as a roomful of candles
over the tiny curl
of your newborn's fingers
about your own?
Why could you not know
the heavenly bliss
of watching its mother
suckle it in the morning light
and sing it to rest
in the evening's glow?
Why could you not have
the comfort of lying
by her side in the biting chill
of winter, the boundless thrill
of her lips and body
in the night, the waking
to her pillowed face
smiling into yours?
You who were most deserving
of all such bounty,
you who gave us hope
and took none for yourself,
pain and loss have been
your only reward.
Why must it be thus?
Now I can but turn back
wounded by the weight
of ten thousand questions
and leave you to drift
into the bright unknown
and nurse this burning
in my own heart
as best as I can
and wonder if it will ever know ease
and why it is that no matter
how much you care
for someone, sometimes
you just don't have
what they really need.
And I will just have to trust
that you will be happy
as I think you truly will;
surely they'll see to it
that you have your due
although I can't picture
what could be for you there.
Still, that will be my comfort now.
And someday I can sing again
and make rhymes for my babes
with no ache in my throat
and dream of the day
that I'll see your face
as it was, young and smiling
so many years gone
and finally know
the solace of answers.
I see him before me
looking just exactly
as when I last beheld him
standing in the harbour
but with the ruddy tinge
of happiness and health.
Around us is a garden
I could never have imagined
the flowers seem to breathe
and the trees to have heartbeats.
I see white marble towers
with windows of crystal glass
shingled with gold and gemstones
gleaming in the distance
topped with embroidered banners
fluttering in the breeze.
I feel almost an intruder
although the steps are silky
the air a spicy tent
with vines and shivering light.
I enter in with shyness
embraced by his smile
and the chiming of mystic bells
in harmony with birdsong
and the lullaby of the waves. And then he clasps my hand
with a gentleness and warmth
that lingers when I waken
almost like a hat
that you can feel upon your head
long after you take it off.
He leads me to a friendly bench
and brings me tea and cakes
reveling in my wonder.
How goes it with the little ones
has the baby learned to walk?
Tell me what clever things they say
and how they do in school
the games they love to play
how pretty the eldest is growing
and the one you named for me
I know he is the smartest....
The birds start at our laughter.
No story too mundane
he would hear it all
and then to me he says: My most beloved friend,
this land is now my castle
where illness is a stranger
and pain dare not trespass
night terrors are laid low
and burdens turned to wings
but still this glass I carry
I peer into its light
and clearly see your face
(although naught but what
you would have me see!)
The voices of your children
make the light burn brighter
the stories that you tell them
protect it from hard frost.
No sea can separate us
for memory is a starry bridge
that will ever lead you to me
no matter what dark things disturb
the hungry waves below.
Still I would have you cross it
only as is needful
lest your steps should wear it thin
and you forget from whence you came.
Your place is in the sunlight.
You must carry only joy
upon your sturdy shoulders
that should bear my weight no longer. Then as the air grows purple
and puts on the veil of stars
he stands and holds the glass
to light my way back over the bridge
raising one hand in farewell
and once more my throat tightens
even as I remember
his final words to me:
We shall meet again
never to be parted
and only then
the bridge will fall....
~*~Last Night in Mordor~*~
We are nearly there....
A star peeps down upon us
almost as if to check
if we be all right
like a mother looking in
on her sleeping babes.
But does she tell us now
that this night is to be
our last upon this earth?
I cannot think on it!
But here, master dear,
sleep now in my arms
you are cold, sick, weary, sad
you should rest and recover
but there's neither time
nor place for it.
Your eyes that once held
joy and teasing lights
are all glazed and shuttered,
their candles dowsed.
I cannot see you there
behind the shattered panes
only grey webbing
and dusty beams.
Your door is locked.
But I will try my best
to keep the horrid shapes
away from your dreams
just for tonight. Dream instead
of a land that never knew
the stink of ash,
the savor of venom
the burn of betrayal
the black wings of war.
Think of your feet fondled
by waters cool and quick
dancing on a clovered stair
pillowed on ferns and silver reeds.
Fruit trees bow on every slope
begging for relief of their loads
apples that fit
the curve of your palm
as though you had molded them
to suit your fancy.
The sun seeks out
your juice-stained face
through every branch
to give back the light
you left behind
somewhere along the way.
Will that land be ours,
or is this all there is?
I cannot think on it!
But if this small life
is all there is for us
we will at least be able
to say we lived it well
and planted seeds of healing
for the punished soil
we sleep beneath. White flowers
will wave above our bones
like little flags that say,
"We guard our heroes here!"
I can say I knew you,
that you were dearer far
than all others--save one,
and perhaps no less dear, at that.
We were born that those
who come after never know
the path that we now tread
the stones that bite our feet
the thirst that dries our souls
we've done it all for them.
Others have done as much,
why can't we? Two soldiers
we'll be, giving our all
for those we love
and those they will love.
Our praises they'll sing
our stories they'll savor
and if there is indeed
a reward for all of this
(as I think there really is)
we'll never part again.
It's all I could wish....
and yet...
I would
that it didn't have to be
Not this soon,
anyway...............
Does it snow where you are now?
Do you look out on a winter
morning and see the first snow
resting fresh and soft
as a dream of sugared joy?
Do you sit by the fireplace
of an evening, light candles
and see my face smiling in
the brightest flame?
I think you are happy; often
I hear you whisper to me
when I light the first candle
of the Yuletide, and the children
are in bed, and I sit wondering
if you can see the snowfall
and if you run out to laugh at
the flakes as a happy pup.
That one candle glows
more high and bright
than all others, just as you
yourself, and I hear your voice
as a carol in the dusk
or as the first snowfall
blanketing my questioning heart
in beauty and delight;
surely you are happy
as I could not make you
however much I wished.
I'd know it if you weren't.
The stars wouldn't shine so thick
and knowing in the winter sky
the snow wouldn't fall
so tender on the boughs of fir
and pine and holly, nor gleam
so white and pure, and
the candles wouldn't bless the room
so warm and cheery, and
the flames couldn't dance
so gladsome on the Yule log
if you were looking out
on a snowless slope through eyes
of soreness and want.
My heart knows you are happy
whether you can see the snow
or no. I wish only
that it could have happened
in this room, with the candles
gathered like the shadows of stars
and that my eyes didn't need
so many tears
to see your face among them….
Does it snow where you are now?