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Poetic Arda  by Mirach

The Ride of Oromë

The stars were young upon the heaven's dome
and darkness dwelt under the shade of trees
and in the darkness evil creatures roamed,
when a horn sounded clear and pure in breeze.

Like thunder rode there Béma on his steed
and Nahar's mane shone bright with silver light:
glistening dream, the music of his feet,
before them fled the creatures of the night.

Now hoofbeats silenced, Béma rides no more
in Middle-earth under the rays of Sun,
but Nahar's children still stay on this shore
and on the grass of Rohan freely run.

The lords of horses, Mearas free and strong,
the steeds of kings that came out of a song.

For the B2MeM prompts:
O68: Oromë: ... makes the horses of Rhovanion (Powers of the World)
O67: sonnet (Poetic forms)
B10: history through songs (Forth Eorlingas!)
B10: Nothlir (family line (esp. as family tree, genealogical tree) (Quenya and Sindarin) - if family lines of horses count as well :D

(Béma was the name used for Oromë by the Rohirrim)

Of Names and Decisions

Fair child without sorrow
s your life hollow,
oldorin prince?
reams are just small seeds
dventures, great deeds
ipen long since…
burning fire
hat's your desire:
nwards without wince

n the light of Two Trees
Noon of Valinor's bliss
Golden-haired child
Over the wide sea, though
Lie the lands you don't know
Distant and wild
Oh, eager child...


Faithful and steady
s you oath ready,
argothrond's king?
eaping the visions
f your decisions
arkness will sink

For the oath spoken
choes unbroken
oyalty true
new hope is born
rief of those who mourn
p to sky flew
ew day is coming
awning in blue

For B2MeM prompts:
N31: Finrod – change of dialect from Findaráto (Finrod: The Quarter-Blood Prince)
N36: Ingoldo – Mother-name (Finrod: The Quarter-Blood Prince)
N31: acrostic (Poetic Forms)

Shadows of Nan Elmoth

O golden cage of Gondolin,                 is covetousness a crime?

Behind the bars a bird                       felt freedom for first time

Aredhel Ar-Feiniel                                    and Eöl, elven smith

Found wonder in the woods,    between branches didn’t breathe

As she in the shade stood                  he saw her beauty bloom

Love piercing as a lance                        in the gathering gloom

Her freedom loving heart                 in shadows shimmers light

Gondolin’s grief is nigh                      nearing darkness of night

There are three ways to read this poem: the usual way in lines as a whole, and the two columns can be read separately as well. Each of them should make sense... I hope it does, at least =) It also uses alliteration - words starting with the same sound.

For B2MeM prompts:
B15: Alliterative verse (Poetic forms)
B15: Aredhel (5 books 5 characters)

The White Tree

The lineage of old
Embraced in soil.

The seed in soil
The secret in heart
Hiding a tender
silver leaf curled

Hiding and waiting:
Through a Dark age
will rise a light:
Nimloth's lineage

The lineage of old
Embraced in soil.

The ancient lineage
of Elendil through
darkness will emerge
with the heart true

Broken sword renewed;
In field of stone
I wake to new life
Forgotten, lone

The lineage of old
Embraced in soil.

I stretch to the Sun:
In the cold snow
it's rays will give me
the strength to grow

Till the time comes:
"Yé! utúvienyes!"

(reuploaded into the collection)

Eagles of Manwë

From the thought of Manwë and from the free sky
Song of soaring heavenly space far and high
Eagles were born, majestic wings and free cry
Star shining brightly

Nests in clouds and all-seeing eyes that can pierce
Shrouds of shadow, attack it with talons fierce
Eagles' song sounds, knowing no darkness and fears
Thorondor mighty

World is reshaped, cry of the eagles still sounds
Mountaintops white - Gwaihir Windlord there soars
Did not forget Manwë the sorrows and tears
Middle-earth's Children

I tried to write a poem about the Great Eagles, created by J.R.R.Tolkien in a sapphic verse. (Quite difficult form for me in English)

B2MeM prompts:
O64: sapphic (poetic forms)
N32: Rare characters (Landroval) - the topic of the poem was inspired by this prompt, although I didn't manage to include him...


Like blue ice a flame

in darkness shone desperate

Horse returned alone

On green grass faithful steed died

heart-broken mourning his lord

The 1st poem for NaPoWriMo, and for the B2MeM prompts:

O70: tanka (poetic forms)
O70: Rochallor, Warhorse of Fingolfin (All Creatures, Foul and Fair)
B13: Ringil (Fingolfin's sword, which glittered like blue ice) (Artifacts and Weapons)

Éala Éarendel

Sleep, my child...
Close your eyes under the blanket of night
A little longer
A little more time
Until you know how unfair the fate has been to you
Until you know what time you have been born into

Sleep, my child...
In sweet ignorance of dreams
Just for a while longer you can be
Like the Lords of the West who do not care
For you, for us
For your unfair fate

Sleep, my child,
And please...
Do not be angry at me
For bringing you into this dark world
Where hope is far and future dimmed
By the black wings of smoke
From Thangorodrim


Look, my child!
A new star is rising!
Sailing on the waves of sky
A holy flame
A spark to ignite new hope for tomorrow

They did not forget...

Éala Éarendel engla beorhtast
Ofer middangeard monnum sended!

Éala Éarendel engla beorhtast Ofer middangeard monnum sended! - "Hail Earendel, brightest of angels, over Middle-earth to men sent!"
- the lines in the Crist written by Cynewulf which can be taken as the inspiration not only for the role of Eärendil in Tolkien's work, but also for the term Middle-earth

The 2nd poem for NaPoWriMo and for the B2MeM propts:

B13: Free verse (Poetic forms)
G59: Hope (Emotions)
B13: "And they looked up and saw a star..." -The First Noel (Here We Come A-Caroling)

Heavenly Dance

Arien's flame
in bright glory rises
blind towards all but her duty
cold Sun

Tilion's love
pursues her through darkness
the lunatic devotion of
full Moon

Two cinquains about Arien and Tilion.
The 3rd poem for NaPoWriMo and for the B2MeM prompts:

G59: Cinquain (Poetic forms)
G59: The Land of the Sun (Off the Map's Edge)

Music of Ainur

Create and sing!

Your mind has wings from Music wrought

In an eye's blink to being brought in Timeless Hall

What you can think to the last dot, that I will call to make a world

                   The horse's trott, the fir-trees tall, the heat and cold

                                         The creatures small, and big and bold

                                                                         Just as I've told:

                                                                                          Eä! Be!

The 5th poem for NaPoWriMo (The 4th is in Slovak)

This is an experiment with form - as you can see, I like rhymes =)

The rhyming scheme is

a b
a b c
a b c d
   b c d
      c d

with every rhyme containing of 4 syllables.

Caves of the Forgotten

Now sing the song of dreamers under stone
In Caves of Damned forever they will sleep
And wander ever in their dreams alone

Now sing the song of dreamers under stone
In place forgotten where Sun never shone
There Ar-Pharazôn landed with his fleet

Now sing the song of dreamers under stone
In Caves of Damned forever they will sleep

The 8th poem for NaPoWriMo (No. 6 and 7 are in Slovak), a triolet.

The Caves of the Forgotten is a place in Aman where Ar-Pharazôn and his army are imprisoned. It is here that they remain until the end of the world when they are prophesized to arise during the Last Battle, Dagor Dagorath.


Glory of past, memories
Oaths of faithfulness
Now arrived the hour of
ark is the path the dead guard
Out of danger will
Rise the long lost kingly line

The 9th poem for NaPoWriMo, an acrostic haiku

Ships of Alqualondë

The song of waters sounded clear and sweet
In light of Trees before its brightness dimmed
There white wood was with foaming sea-waves rimmed
The swiftest swan-ships in a mighty fleet
The sails were woven with a silver thread
As they sailed proudly through the storms and wind
Like graceful swans their prows were shaped, flanks winged
No better ship could sailor ever meet
Now white planks reddened with the Elven blood
In Swanhaven under the darkened sky
Where ships were taken together with lives
Then sky in Losgar reddened like rose bud
The fires rose on shores where the gulls cry
To Alqualondë only ash arrives

The 12th poem for NaPoWriMo, an italian sonnet

(#10 is in Slovak, #11 is a translation of Tolkien's poem to Slovak)

Halls of Mandos

Stories hung upon the walls
Every thread a single fate
Whom Mandos to his halls calls
Must pass through the iron gate

Every thread a single fate
woven into tapestries
Must pass through the iron gate
Who has died in shade of trees

Woven into tapestries
All the stories big and small
Who has died in shade of trees
Will see them hung on the wall

All the stories big and small
Written by the hand of time
Will see them hung on the wall
Stories of love, courage, crime

Written by the hand of time
Fate of every Man or Elf
Stories of love, courage, crime
Each of them can find himself

Fate of every Man or Elf
Whom Mandos to his halls calls
Each of them can find himself
Stories hung upon the walls

The 16th poem for NaPoWriMo, a pantoum (I like this form, it's twice as much poem for the same price =))

I paint your face in my mind

I paint your face in my mind
On the canvas of my dreams
A picture of hearts entwined

When to duty I'm confined
Loneliness louder than screams
I paint your face in my mind

I see your eyes - loving, kind
Beauty that from the soul streams
A picture of hearts entwined

That's where I can new strength find
When yoke of fate so hard seems
I paint your face in my mind

When the resolve stays behind
It is the love that redeems
A picture of hearts entwined

Even if I would go blind
In the darkness your light gleams
I paint your face in my mind
A picture of hearts entwined

Aragorn's profession of his love to Arwen, and what it means to him.
A villanelle, written for the Teitho topic "Stories and Pictures"

Túrin Turambar

You want to be a master of your fate
And believe still that you can win this fight
But anger kills as surely as a blade
And so is dimmed for you Doriath's light
For king's judgement you did not want to wait
But fled instead - fugitive in the night

Wandering lost, you found men of the night
And joined with them, and shared their lonely fate
On Amon Rûdh you will for your friend wait
His love will guide him, make him join your fight
Then Bow and Helm will bring to these lands light
Until the bond is severed by the blade

The sword is black and cruel is its blade
When it cuts flesh in darkness of the night
What you have done, you'll see in flash of light
And understand the evil turn of fate
For it is not an enemy you fight
But Beleg's death that in your hands did wait

For other man the elven maid did wait
But love is as dangerous as a blade
That Gwindor sees, and gives up without fight
Then bridge was build, and dragon came in night
And so is sealed Nargothrond's tragic fate
In Pool of Ivrin shimmers no more light

Her eyes were shining and her step was light
But in vain would she for a savior wait
At orc-spear's tip Finduilas met her fate
While dragon's eyes, sharp like a deadly blade
Around Nienor weaved a web of night
Oblivion's mist that she could not fight

Then bravely you rose and went to the fight
For your young wife and for the waning light
But dragon's death lifted the spell of night
In rushing waters does Nienor's death wait
While blood of Túrin will drink his own blade
So fulfilled was the curse of evil fate

But in last night once more will Túrin fight
And avenge his fate, bathed in bright light
For Morgoth's doom waits in Turambar's blade

20th poem for NaPoWriMo, a sestina

Yavanna's lullaby

Beloved children, you must sleep
In a sleep dreamless and deep
The black night fell
Like evil spell,
But you will your strength keep

Darkness spread over the land
The Lamps that fell we cannot mend
With poisoned sting
Now Arda's Spring
Has ended, its time spent

Close your eyes and do not fear
To my heart you are most dear
When you wake
The night will break
Sky again will be clear

Rest under the wings of night
So you can wake in new light
Waiting seed
A tree or weed
When land again is bright

24th poem for NaPoWriMo

Through long ages the Valar dwelt in bliss in the light of the Trees beyond. The Mountains of Aman, but all Middle-earth lay in a twilight under the stars. While the Lamps had shone, growth began there which now was checked, because all was again dark. But already the oldest living things had arisen: in the seas the great weeds, and on earth the shadow of great trees; and in the valleys of the night-clad hills there were dark creatures old and strong. To those lands and forests the Valar seldom came, save only Yavanna and Oromë; and Yavanna would walk there in the shadows, grieving because the growth and promise of the Spring of Arda was stayed. And she set a sleep upon many things that had arisen in the Spring, so that they should not age, but should wait for a time of awakening that yet should be.

- J. R. R. Tolkien, Silmarillion

Dead Marshes

Once armies proud,
their enemies vile
Once armies proud,
now they rest in a mire

Side by side lie
noble Elf with a Man
Side by side lie
Orcs from a dark den

In dreamless sleep
Forever they'll rest
In dreamless sleep
Hosts of East, hosts of West

The waters cold
Are their murky grave
The waters cold
Above soldiers brave

Dead faces in water
Some noble and sad
Dead faces in water
And mud is their bed

Cold and pale faces,
Both evil and fair
Cold and pale faces
With weed in their hair

All foul, all rotting
Lit by corpse-lights
All foul, all rotting,
Fell barrow-wights

You should not look in
Or you'll lose your wit
You should not looks in
When the candles are lit

28th poem for NaPoWriMo. Inspired by the Teitho topic "Candles" (But written after the deadline, and it doesn't feature Aragorn or Legolas anyways...)

War of Wrath

In the very hour of their need
In the hour of defeat
Valar came into Mithrim
Their trumpets shook Thangorodrim
At the coming
Sun rose flaming
The West knew that might
Uprising of great light

(This is just a rewrite of the original found poem, you can see the original here )

25th poem for NaPoWriMo - a found poem (finally found the time to scan it, as well =)

The page from the Silmarillion tells about the coming of Noldor and capturing of Maedhros. The found poems tells about the War of Wrath and defeat of Morgoth - you see, even in darkness there is light and in defeat victory...

The Last Mallorn


I saw

A tree stood alone

For him the wind played a song

I know

Wide is its crown

Its roots through centuries strong


I saw

A trunk proud and tall

Like temple-pillars of old

I know

The leaves that don't fall

But turn to purest of gold


I saw

The sprouting young leaves

Like gems of green light in spring

I know

And then my heart bleeds

A dirge is the song that I sing


I saw

The last Elven tree

Upon this darkened grey shore

I know

Over the wide Sea

They're gone to return no more...

(reuploaded into the collection)

The Ride of Rohirrim

The beacons lit
The oath gives speed
Horses and riders tall
The sparkling shield
On bloody field
We answer Gondor's call!

Kisses to wives
The last goodbyes
Who returns, we don't know
This is the day
When we can't stay
The King calls, we follow

The sea of spears
The sun sheds tears
Eorlingas ride to war
To the red day
To glory, fame
In the ancestors' hall! 

Rohirrim battle song (reuploaded into the collection from dA. You can download it as in mp3 here, I tried to record as I imagine it as a song. My microphone is not very good, and I can't sing well, so download the file and listen to it on your own danger)

The Song of Aragorn and Arwen


Among the songs of waterfalls

in a valley green and fair

I sang the song of Lúthien

and spring was in the air.


Among the birches’ silver trunks

I heard your silent song.

And I saw youth and innocence…

…and I felt something strong.


In that moment I lost my heart:

forever it will dwell

enchanted in your tender palm

in spring in Rivendell.


The wind sang in the mallorn leaves:

each blade a small green gem.

I found no peace with summer breeze

in dreamy Lórien.


From distant lands under strange stars

I came weary, my feet sore.

I sought only rest from the war –

- and I found so much more…


You came to me like an elven king,

a white gem upon your brow.

And what I saw was a noble man.

And what I felt… was love.


Autumn has come to Rivendell,

the leaves will die and fall.

And I must go: to victory,

or to the end of all.


I watch you leave: as strong and wise

as a mighty king of Men.

And behind darkness, winter’s chill

I hope we meet again.


The path is dark, the shadow grows,

on the edge of hope I stand.

But I don’t fear, because my heart

lies safely in your hand.


The river sings about the Sea,

but I stay on this shore.

For, without you, there is no joy

for me in Valinor.


My Evenstar, you are my light

when darkness spreads its wing.

And after winter cold and bleak

I still have hope for spring.


Like in the woods of Doriath

the spring will come again.

You are my Beren, you’re my love,

and I’m your Lúthien.

Beren walked lonely in the woods of Doriath for the whole winter, until Lúthien returned with the spring. Now Middle-earth is falling into darkness and winter again - but there is love that reaches through it with hope. A poem for Teitho: Elven Realms (reuploaded into the collection)

Halbarad's Farewell


The gathering gloom, the feel of doom

This is an evil door

Darkness ahead, the journey's end

Is not far anymore


The threshold dark from a cold stone,

And my death lies beyond

But I follow, for you must go,

And faith is a strong bond


For noble past I've ridden south

After the sun of noon,

But for the future I will go

Into the sunless gloom


Behind that door no turning back,

And yet I'll cross this line

Towards the burning, bloody field

And hope that is not mine


Be well, my love, kiss our son

For me and for my king

Into your arms I won't return,

But don't let your heart sink


Do not mourn for me, cousin mine,

When my life's blood will flow

I only regret I won't see

The crown upon your brow

'This is an evil door,' said Halbarad, 'and my death lies beyond it. I will dare to pass it nonetheless; but no horse will enter.'

(J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King, Book V, Chapter 2: The Passing of the Grey Company)

- poem reuploaded into the collection from B2MeM 2010

The Broken Sword


The light of Sun, the light of Moon

Glowed brightly in the blade

The seven stars from Varda's sky

Whose shine should never fade


The darkness fell with fiery gaze

Upon the shadowed land

But Sword and Spear in alliance

Against its evil stand


The broken sword, the shattered light

Of Sun, and Stars, and Moon

Yet still it has the strength to cut

The thread of evil doom


The empty throne, the tombs of kings

The future becomes past

And like a line in secrecy:

The shards covered by dust


The shadows gather, evil gloom:

The darkness stirs again,

Over the land, menacing cloud,

Dread returns to its den


But hand will come to wield the sword

Of one with the heart true,

And with the Flame of ancient West

The blade will flare anew!

Narsil: nar - "fire", thil -"white light" referring to the Sun and Moon

Andúril: "Flame of the West"

...on its blade was traced a device of seven stars set between the crescent Moon and the rayed Sun, and about them was written many runes... Very bright was that sword when it was made whole again; the light of the sun shone redly in it, and the light of the moon shone cold, and its edge was hard and keen.

(J. R. R. Tolkien: The Fellowship of the Ring)

- poem reuploaded into the collection from B2MeM 2010

Gilraen's Lullaby

Sleep, my son
The night is a river
carrying you there
where silver stars shiver
On streams of dreams
to a land without sorrow
where boys have fathers
and the mounds are hollow
in dreams...

Sleep, my child
the sun hides till morrow
Her last rays a way
that elven ships follow
There, names are not secret
that can bring a danger
And father to child
doesn't have to be stranger
in dreams...

Sleep, my Hope
and hope of your people
Than mighty oak
your roots are deeper
Once you will know
the pride of the humbled,
the value of honour
and hopes of your kindred,
their dreams...

Sleep, my son
while darkness is soothing,
while you can rest
till the call of duty...
Once you will ride
to hardship and danger
and like your father
you will be a ranger
Now dream...

Sleep, my child
like in a nest eagle
when the stars shine,
distant and regal
Sleep, gain more strength,
and courage and strong will
that you will need
to grow and fulfil
all dreams...

Written for Teitho: "Mothers", reuploaded into the collection

Son of Fire

He was the fire
Devouring flame
Wine until bottom
And pain of fame

He was my father
His anger like flood
We sealed our Oath
In fire and blood

The flame extinguished
By Oath we're still bound
Through tears and pain
No rest to be found

The blood on my hands
And my hand in chains
What was it for
When nothing remains?

The Light we sought, burns
So close, yet so far
We are not worthy
To touch a star

Burning flame, take me
And clean the stain
Take the cursed Jewel
And end my pain!

In fire it started
In fire it ends
Just like my father
The fire in my veins

Hobbit limerick

There was once a director of the Hobbit

when filming LotR, he used to quite crop it.

The profit is free,

so let's make movies three:

that was the way he now saw it.

A/N: A limerick is a short humorous or witty poem, consisting of 5 lines with the rhyme scheme AABBA, and the number of accents in the lines: 3,3,2,2,3

And you all probably know already, that the Hobbit movie will be split into 3 parts, with the first part coming out this december!

J. R. R. Tolkien

Just see who enters
the realm of dreams
creating lands
that none have seen

Retaking kingdoms,
legends of old
Molding them into
enchanted world

Reaping the fruits
that in his mind grow
to rivers of words
that from his pen flow

Travel through the lands,
follow the dream
He gives you his hand...
Enter with him!


(Written by a bard of Rohan, inspired by Merriadoc Brandybuck's talks with king Théoden)


In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit,

Gardener thoughtful, in the ground digging,

from sunny Longbottom in the Southfarthing

Called Tobold Hornblower, to Bree he travelled,

Wondered what plants grow there, wanted to see them

Interesting herbs he saw growing up on the hill

Small seeds carried with him back to Southfarthing

Planted them in his garden, from pests protected

With harvest plentiful was he rewarded

Leaves he lay in the sun, left them to dry there

Thinking to make a tea, then try and taste it

But as he brought the leaves to kettle boiling

Some of them slipped on the coals smoldering

As Tobold smelled the smoke, he smiled broadly

Better than boiling them were the leaves burning

He pondered it and fashioned a pipe from prune wood

So he could smoke the leaves, sweet and refreshing

Pipe-weed he called the plant, plenty he planted

Since then the Hobbits hold in high esteem

The art of smoking, by Old Toby discovered.


A/N: Written for this task of Tolkien Mailing Competition (TLV by the Hungarian acronym):

Topic: a story set in The Shire, starring any known or unknown hobbit character;

Form: serious style, alliterative verse (I know that has a lot of other rules but here all what is expected is to have at least two or three alliterating word in every line).

“Anyway by mid-winter Gandalf and Bilbo had come all the way back, along both edges of the Forest, to the doors of Beorn's house; and there for a while they both stayed. Yule-tide was warm and merry there; and men came from far and wide to feast at Beorn's bidding." (J.R.R. Tolkien: The Hobbit)

For the 3rd round of this year's Tolkien mailing competition, one of the tasks was:

Write and record a Yule-song that could have been heard at Beorn’s place

Sorry I post it so late after Christmas, when it would be more appropriate, I had to wait for the results of the round before posting it. It is sung with the melody of "Jingle Bells", and I will not give you the recording, because my singing is terrible, so here is just the text.

Beorn's yule song

Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.
Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.

Snow is falling high
In the woods tonight
Cloudy is the sky,
But one window is bright
Bear sleeps in his den,
Rabbit in his hole,
Beorn invites all the men
to his wooden hall!

Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.
Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.

Wizards, hobbits, men,
Ponies, dogs and sheep
We meet here again,
While sun goes to sleep
With round or pointy ear,
The tall and the small
Everyone is welcome here
In Beorn's merry hall!

Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.
Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.

Honey-cakes are sweet
And fire burns bright
In streams flows the mead
In Beorn's hall tonight
Beating got the Orcs
And dragon is no more
To that we raise cups and forks
In Beorn's fire-lit hall!

Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.
Yule-tide, Yule-tide,
longest night in year,
outside it is cold and dark,
but warm and merry here.

Westu Théoden hál

Wind blew cold in the horse's mane
East ran the horses through the plain
Stalwart rode there a faithful king
Through shadow of a dreadful wing
Unafraid when blood fell like rain

Through a dark morning without dawn
He led his riders, now they're gone
Eorl's sons in their helmets tall
Oath bound them to heed Gondor's call
Dark was the morning, red the day
Ere evening came, the king dead lay
Now to the bright halls leads his way

Hail Théoden, o mighty king
A song of glory as swords ring
Let now the riders sing!

An acrotic poem written for the Tolkien Mailing Competition (TLV)

Orc and Spring


Stupid flowers, stupid smells

„Go hunt Hobbits!” Sauron yells

What am I, a stupid bee?

I’ve got pollen allergy!

(A poem about spring from an Orc's point of view - a task for Tolkien Mailing Competition.)

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