Welcome to The Great Hall of Poets, our regular monthly feature showcasing the talent of Middle-earth fans. Each month we will feature a small selection of the poems submitted, but we hope you will read all of the poems that we have received here in our Great Hall of Poets.
So come and join us by the hearth and enjoy!
If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net
One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.
The Maiden with Silver Hair
by Lithoniel-Greenleaf
Walking slowly over the dew flecked grounds,
A young maiden with silver hair appears.
Her hair shining in the silver moon.
She dances, as a soft gentle breeze
Begins to stir.
The leaves are whispering secrets to her.
Secrets from the past, secrets from the days that
Have passed. Secrets from the future, secrets from
Children and men.
The maiden with silver hair smiles, and
Listens to the secrets being shared.
For she is the only one who can hear
Them, only her.
Secrets she would keep dear.
The maiden with silver hair smiles,
As the wind blows by.
She listens silently as the night
Calls to her.
The night calls to the stars.
The night calls to her,
And soon the maiden with
Silver hair, flowing past her knees
Dances again.
And soon whispering rain is heard,
Upon the horizon.
Soon a faint, giggle is heard.
And a voice as gentle as silk is heard.
Her tongue is foreign,
An ancient language.
But it seems to call to the rain,
To the wind, to the moon, to the stars,
To night, to day.
As the maiden with silver hair speaks,
Though not alone.
A quieter voice has joined her own, as the
Moon shines upon golden hair.
Another maiden is standing with her,
Clothed in white, and full of light.
Her ears though slightly pointed,
Show through her hair.
She is Galadriel, the lady of light.
The maiden with silver hair, speaks
Voice as quiet as night. Her ears are pointed as
Well it seems.
Elves both of these fair maidens are.
Both are ancient, both are wise.
Both have seen the world that comes
And goes.
Their voices, soft as snow, gentle
As rain, though foreign to
Thine ear.
Talk of the past, what is to come
And what has gone. And soon silence
Is heard.
The maiden with golden hair,
Has now gone with the wind.
As the maiden with silver hair,
Smiles and soon she is dancing again,
While leaves dance around her and wind
Whispers to her once more.
As the bell tolls midnight, the rain
Is soon to come.
And the Elven maiden with silver,
Flowing hair, and midnight blue gown,
Sings as her work is done. The rain sings around her,
Though she is not wet, giving life to the land,
To the earth she stands on.
For she smiles, as others,
Both men and hobbits, dwarves and elves
Sleep, for she would protect them,
As her mother does.
The elven maiden with silver hair,
Softly sings as the rains fall, the earth absorbs
The life giving rain. The leaves shiver as rain sparkles
Like early morning dew, from a star’s tear.
The maiden with silver hair, dances once
Again, as the land rejoices.
And soon her singing is heard in the
Wind, in the rain, among the stars and
In our dreams.
Though now she is gone,
But I know she will return.
For she is the elven maiden with silver hair
The guardian of secrets,
The guardian of rain,
The guardian of night,
The guardian of wind,
The guardian of our dreams.
Her mother Galadriel, always watches
Over her, guiding her.
Though the maiden with silver hair,
Has been there through the ages.
For she is the maiden with silver hair,
And she will always be.
~~ * ~~
In The Halls…
by Hali Ravenhammer
In the halls of dungeons deep
Where many delve and never sleep
It’s there twas found the heart of stone
Shining brightly all alone.
In the halls of carvings drawn
Soldiers stand to guard the dawn
The wind, it rises to catch the air
A subtle warmth that cannot compare.
In the halls where gold lies
The king stands alone and never cries
His heart is cold and lost and black
And cruel words are his harsh attack.
In the halls a dragon came
Destroying lives never to be the same
Killing all who crossed his path
And burning those in his fiery wrath.
In the halls where death lingers
The drake guards his hoard with scaly fingers
He sleeps brooding over his gold
His red greatness shining bold.
In the halls a terrible silence falls
And lone ravens mourn with lamenting calls
They wait for the day of the King’s return
Hearts hoping for him, they yearn.
In the halls of Erebor
The dwarves dwell there no more
Wandering lost in the wilderness
The harsh wind acts as their only caress
In the halls of broken ruin
The blood of Durin will return soon
Led by the crownless Prince with the oaken shield
The dragon’s might shall finally yield.
In the halls of Durin’s folk
Lies a sleeping King, many’ve spoke
He waits in rest, with his kin, until the demise
Then from heaven, he shall arise.
~~ * ~~
Last of the Ring Bearers
by Bracegirdle
On sun-bright summer mornings with clippers and a hoe
He’d take the pleasant short walk to the top of Bagshot Row.
While humming soft a song he would slowly stroll along,
Pondering the day’s work – how to help the garden grow.
When tales overheard of Elves and Rings and Foe immensely strong;
Of Master Frodo’s leaving – and fear he did not belong.
But the Grey Pilgrim knew that the heart of Sam was true,
And this son of Gaffer Gamgee would get to go along.
Through Old Forest and on to Bree, Sam met the Future King.
Then secret ways through reeking fen and midges with a Sting.
From Hilltop to the Ford where cold the waters roared;
A fate then lade at Rivendell – Nine Walkers and The Ring.
In Khazad-dûm a great loss – The Fellowship now eight.
Then Golden Wood too short a rest, and on to River Great.
Tale now fully told of Sam’s faithfulness so bold.
Then leisure trek to Shire so dear to fulfil his fate.
To Elanor he did entrust the Red Book to hold tight,
To tell the tales of days gone by, the days of dark and light.
Samwise with Daughter Fair then a final walk did share.
A slow walk of sweet sadness to Grey Havens bright.
Now, Last of the Ring Bearers, Middle-earth he did leave,
And Straight Way was taken as grace he did receive.
Past friendships now unfold and Sam’s tears fall as gold.
And Aman is further blest on this unknown summer’s eve.
~~ * ~~
Once again there were a number of wonderful poems submitted for May, thank you to everyone who sent them in. You can see all of them here, in our Great Hall Archive.
