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YavannaIn Valimar, on hilltop fair
I dance on lawns of ageless green.
In pasture, field and whither there,
be blossom bright and eagle keen
I find my power and delight:
a Queen I am of all that grows.
Green as beech and summer-bright
the living robe that from me flows.
Sown and raised by my own hand
the shining Trees have given light:
great lamps we hold above the land
by Aulë's craft and Varda's might.
By Elves I am the Mother Earth
for from me, all woods came to birth.
Sulimo and TintalleThe greatest of the Aratar;
the kingly Lord of Valimar
sits upon a snow-white throne
carven from the palest stone,
beside the dark-haired Valië
whose eyes are winter starlight grey
and shine with knowledge of the night
and darkness, which she put to flight
with Valacirca; Melkor's ruin,
with Carnil, Luinil, bright Wilwarin.
Highest of all on Eä they are:
the King beside the Queen sees far
and she with him hears far beyond
the Blessed Realm, from Aglarond
to Neldoreth her mind is cast
to broken Angband where, held fast
the Dark Lord Melkor, bound with chains
of Aulë's craft still there remains.
Manwë, the King with silver crown
will rule till time comes falling down
and at his side the Queen will be;
the star-smith Elentári.
Tulkas and NessaAs Nahar races with the wind,
upon his back rides Oromë.
Yet steedless goes his female kin;
as bright and cherished as the day
the godly huntress and her train
of hind and hawk and untamed mare,
as they run wild through hill and plain.
To chase her, only I would dare.
No darkness comes where I am found,
no evil dares approach Astaldo
but fire, light and strength abound
wherever I in Earth should go.
Of Nessa not a lot is said
so I will seek to amend that:
fleetfooted is her soundless tread,
as silent as a hunting cat.
She is the passion of the sun
that spears like gold through forest glen,
and all the creatures with her run
but none can match her, even then
when Eä was young and few good folk
would ventures forth from Valimar.
Oblivious to fearful talk -
or maybe fearless, as they are,
those Valar queens, so brave and bold
and full of Eru's majesty.
Despite the dread of ages old
my Nessa still went proud and free.
As russet bronze her hair in flight
caught in the wind about h
The WeaverWritten by her silver loom
are all the ages of the world
in ever hall and every room
her tapestries, like flags unfurled.
She, the Weaver of the West,
Queen of Fate and spouse of Death,
plots the pathways with her weft;
each footstep, heartbeat, thought and breath.
Vairë of the Valar bright,
she charts the course of each new life.
As each new heart begins the fight,
still no one can avoid her knife.
As first she spins, so then she ties:
the ages of the world, she knows.
And all of time 'cross her gaze flies,
to gild the fair walls of Mandos.
Lady of the Lasting Loom,
until the end will she weave on.
In her webs are writ the dooms
of Arda, and the Firstborn ones.
The self-cursed have regained the world;
the tapestries are changing shape.
No longer will the Elves have word
in great events of war and state.
No longer will they walk the paths
of Lórien, of Mirkwood grim:
their shadows fade from Arda's tracks
and Twilight's flame forever dims.
They sail across the Western Sea
Lady of the SeaFor all I dwell beneath the sea
I know the hearts of men and Elves,
from north to south in starlit Ea
I lie upon the ocean swell.
In times of need to me they call
to save them from the howling storm;
from wave and from destructive squall
sent by my mate, in ire born.
Nymph some call me; siren too,
but Maian I was born and though
the storm in me beats loud and true
I hark to none but great Ulmo.
When Morgoth's call is hard to fight
a check I am to Ossë's might.
UndomielThe world has changed forever, the trees come without leaf;
the starless skies fade high above in endless wasting grief.
In gardens of grey she dwells now, in Lórien once bright,
but all who lived beneath the trees have passed to the Twilight.
Across the Western sea to the land that never dies:
her people took the Haven road but in Dwimordene she lies.
In love she found her hope, but now her hope is waning;
the loneliness of mortal life brings heartache never-fading.
When all is gone and silent and she has wandered far,
upon the earth she takes to rest and so dies Evenstar.
SuntideSleep, O child of the summer;
lay thy sweet head down, and dream.
Listen to the ever-changing murmur
of the voices in the forest, in the streams,
and float, float on away.
Sleep, O son of the meadows
by the sloping river-bend
and dream of where the water goes;
come harvest-time, thy dreams will end
and bleed, bleed on away.
I will care for thee, O suntide-born,
here at the silver waterside
from death of spring to autumn dawn
when we in summer who abide
will fade, fade all away.
Child of the newborn May,
golden-skinned and fair of face
thy birth is as the dawning day
when night will to its darkened place
retreat, and fade away.
I Thought the StarsTonight, I thought the stars were singing,
singing in their soft voice to the seas.
So lovely was the music that
the spellbound night fell blinded to its knees.
And high above amid the lights of men and absent gods
the watchman heard a haunting song
of fire's heart there set among
a crown of stone and ice
and there, to which I looked anon
within the night sky fell a shafted spear of pointed light
yet in a breath it passed on, and was gone.
Out stretched the watchman's mighty hand
to point across the stars
to where beyond the world the moon
and sun compared their scars.
"This one you gave me," spoke the moon
of her damaged, silver face,
"for I would ever follow you,
you and your golden grace."
But then came another body,
to cloak in silver shade
the fairness of the moon
and she was in darkness made.
Here swung the Earth in light
and shimmers blue and grey,
between the sun and moon
and eclipse fell, on that day.
The May QueenWho will go down to those shady groves
and summon the shadows there,
and tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
in the springtime of the year?
Loreena McKennitt, The Mummer's Dance
There were swallows in the sky,
and honey bees below;
and there a pearly butterfly
on its way did go.
The wanderer with his guitar passed
through dappled forest groves
until the midday sun at last
shone through the boughs and led him home.
He sat and played a merry tune
beneath the shadow of the oak;
a song of gods and hunters' moons,
the Old Ways and the Fair Folk.
There came a voice then on the breeze
as sweet as birdsong, light as air;
a lady stepped out from the trees
and sunlight flamed upon her hair.
From shady glens long undisturbed
she came, her song a sweet descant
to his guitar, and he, perturbed
did falter as he heard the chant.
She sang of oceans, fields and clouds
of winter's bite and summer rain;
upon her brow she wore a crown
of creamy hawthorne blossoming.
The Passing of ArwenThe water rippled silver
The trees all shone with gold.
White elanor was blooming
In Lothlórien of old.
Elvish voices laughing
Silver music in the air.
But I hear now only silence
In Lothlórien the fair.
The mallorn leaves have fallen
Where once the flowers grew.
Time has touched the forest
Gone Lothlórien I knew.
Tear-stained face and empty fingers
As cold as stars above.
Memories, only memories
In Lothlórien, I loved.
No singing; naught but echoes
In the groves where phantoms tread.
Like the trees, the Elfstone faded
My Lothlórien is dead.
But they say beyond this world
Grief and darkness, light dispels.
With the spring, I pass forever
A GiftMy memory I considered a gift,
But nightmares soon proved I was wrong.
Visions of past and future might-bees
Penetrated my sleep before long.
Haunted by life and regrets of lost deeds
There is nothing I can leave behind.
O, power and glory, forever I sing,
Of a curse, yet a greatness of mind!
Lay of the Grey Pilgrimone Tuesday morn upon Bag End,
much to our Bilbo's chagrin,
Grey Pilgrim called; the door was mauled.
so do burgling careers begin.
three trolls turned to stone mid-fight
held four-teen sacked and in dread plight;
but vagrant choice from Greyhame's voice
unsacked them all and lead their flight.
of the white stones that mark the trail
to Elrond's stead, fair Rivendell:
Mithrandir's mind, it did divine
where dwarves and burglars did fail.
set upon by goblin hosts
with baggage gone and ponies lost,
Stormcrow took wing bearing Glamdring
and saved the day with ne'er a boast.
with fire, goblins and wargs impede
fifteen poor birds in five fir trees.
Gandalf, with sparks, raised howls and barks;
and so by eagles birds were freed.
Lament for the White Tree.
Sign of kings and Numenor's power,
Born from Celeborn's white flower,
Nimloth fair, tall did you grow,
But in Ar-Pharazon you found a foe.
Oh, Nimloth fair, blessed Tree,
The axe did fall, thrice times three,
Nimloth, who Yavanna adored,
Fell to blow from axe and sword.
Yet praises be to Elendil tall,
Who took, before Numenor's fall,
Nimloth's child, small and fair,
In Minas Ithil it blossomed there.
Though thrice it died, to plague or war,
Thrice the king a sapling saw.
Nimloth! Nimloth! Your name is fair,
Your children live whilst kings take air.
But now that time is gone and dead.
No king to lead the country's head.
Nimloth now has no heir,
Gondor has no king to care.
In the Steward's courtyard bright,
The last White Tree, no longer white,
Waiting for the king to come,
There are no Ages of the Sun.
The line of Numenor is gone,
Of those old kings there is not one.
Nimloth bright, you wait in vain,
The kings will not come again!
Ai, Nimloth! Fairer than Tinuviel,
In Numenor once you f
Boromir's Farewell - purgatori
there he lay upon the ground
last emblem of Gondor
arrows speared through his flesh
that glows a pale grey
the horn shall never again
his sword stained with victory
lays over his defeat
the woods mourn the loss
as his spirit is carried away
proud man of Gondor
the everlasting warrior
FimbrethilLove of flowers, love of field
Love of the grassy fen
Love of fruit and fronded blade
Such were the Entwives ken
Treebeard dreams of ancient days
And often her name recites
Calling to mind her labors fair
Remembrance of orchids bright
Petals in spring were bursting from bud
Turning to apples of gold
A passion for order and fruitful care
He could in her gardens behold
Oh Fimbrethil dear - both bent and brown
From tilling in prairie and dell
I pine for the visage of sapling sprout
And would of my love for you tell
But weary of war and a blasted earth
Your gardens have withered away
While Ents to the wood retreated themselves
No Entwives consented to stay
Sonnet- Maedhros to Fingon(Warning for mild slash)
I met you as a child with plaited hair,
And wildness that I soon grew to adore.
Your ringing laughter echoed through the air
In joyous days when we did not know war.
Just when we felt our future was assured,
I lost you when our haven turned to black.
Through fire, ice, and shackles love endured-
You cut me out of hell and brought me back.
Since broken on the battlefield you lie,
What of my soul remains is now consumed
By guilt, for though I left you there to die,
My heart with yours will ever be entombed.
Without you, dearest cousin, lover, friend,
I may live on, but I will never mend.
ElberethWalking through the lea of gold
I saw the pale queen rise.
I felt the starlight on my skin
as she sailed through the skies.
In her train came others;
a billion points of light,
but none were there as lovely
as the glowing Queen of Night.
And glancing at the countenance
of Varda, Elbereth,
I lost my way and found myself;
my path, I did forget.
Like twilight's child Tinúviel
the star did catch and flee,
and in this darkened meadow
I was left, alone with me.
Bereth vanui, my star has gone:
where are you now, Gilthoniel?
No longer does your light shine down;
where do you go, tar-míriel?
In that far land b'yond Belegaer,
she dwells on matchless mountain high
Yet when the sun is dead and gone
she reigns supreme across the sky.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More