ReVerse

[HerenIstarion]

The shadows where the Mewlips dwell
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.

You sink into the slime, who dare
To knock upon their door,
While down the grinning gargoyles stare
And noisome waters pour.

Beside the rotting river-strand
The drooping willows weep,
And gloomily the gorcrows stand
Croaking in their sleep.

Over the Merlock Mountains a long and weary way,
In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,
By a dark pool's borders without wind or tide,
Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.

The cellars where the Mewlips sit
Are deep and dank and cold
With single sickly candle lit;
And there they count their gold.

Their walls are wet, their ceilings drip;
Their feet upon the floor
Go softly with a squish-flap-flip,
As they sidle to the door.

They peep out slyly; through a crack
Their feeling fingers creep,
And when they've finished, in a sack
Your bones they lake to keep.

Beyond the Merlock Mountains, a long and lonely road.
Through the spider-shadows and the marsh of Tode,
And through the wood of hanging trees and the gallows-weed,
You go to find the Mewlips — and the Mewlips feed


**********************************

The shining shore where Moofeet go
Is pearly-pale like milk
There swift and loud pipes they blow
And soft is sand like silk

The flowers pop up from the turf
The windows shine with light
And waves are gentle with the surf
As shore they kiss by night

The lofty pine there stands on cliff
To face the salty breeze
And seagulls proud crowd the reef
Or master wind with ease

Down to Shallow Islet swift and winding path
Turns and writhes through, springs and leaps a-rath
On the shores of foamy surf, under starry sky
Harking to the wash on-shore, there the Moofeet lie

The halls by sea where Moofeet stall
Are full of golden shine
With lamps and torches on the walls
And merry guests to dine

Their windows wide and floors of sand
All round adorned with webs
All sing and dance on sea and land
When one shows out its neb

They rush and run, their gates are high
They stamp their hooves and bark
And when they’ll whistle, far and nigh
All foes will flee to lurk

Up from Shallow Islet swift and joyful way
Turns and writhes through and no one goes astray
To the shores of foamy surf, under starry dome
Merry will the feast be there, where’s the Moofoot’s home.

[HerenIstarion]

The fat cat on the mat
may seem to dream
of nice mice that suffice
for him, or cream;
but he free, maybe,
walks in thought
unbowed, proud, where loud
roared and fought
his kin, lean and slim,
or deep in den
in the East feasted on beasts
and tender men.
The giant lion with iron
claw in paw,
and huge ruthless tooth
in gory jaw;
the paid dark-starred,
fleet upon feet,
that oft soft from aloft
leaps on his meat
where woods loom in gloom-
far now they be,
fierce and free,
and tamed is he;
but fat cat on the mat
kept as a pet,
he does not forget.


*********************************


Though mice feed on rice
And may look for a nook
For the paw to go
And the hook to rook
But they fly on high
In their dreams
To the dark to hark
Silent screams
To where bats knit and tat
Or upside on the bough
In angle tangle go dangle
Leather wings to sough
Trough the air with dare
Glide and slide
Hunting moth and bug
Pip and gride
Up and down they yaw
Eat no seed
Things they are on wings
Not on feet!
Where twig'n'leaf no reef
For them ever form
Though their home be worm
And by day they dorm
Though they feed on rice
Kept in barn, still mice
Dream of flight by night!

[PaleStar]

all very interesting...

[Mithalwen]

I'll get back to you...

[Elennar Starfire]

I've got one in the works at the moment...but am suffering from a severe lack of creativity...so it may be awhile.

[Mithalwen]

Bilbo's last song

Day is ended, dim my eyes,
but journey long before me lies.
Farewell, friends! I hear the call.
The ship's beside the stony wall.
Foam is white and waves are grey;
beyond the sunset leads my way.
Foam is salt, the wind is free;
I hear the rising of the Sea.

Farewell, friends! The sails are set,
the wind is east, the moorings fret.
Shadows long before me lie,
beneath the ever-bending sky,
but islands lie behind the Sun
that I shall raise ere all is done;
lands there are to west of West,
where night is quiet and sleep is rest.

Guided by the Lonely Star,
beyond the utmost harbour-bar,
I'll find the heavens fair and free,
and beaches of the Starlit Sea.
Ship, my ship! I seek the West,
and fields and mountains ever blest.
Farewell to Middle-earth at last.
I see the Star above your mast!

-- J. R. R. Tolkien

A work in progress - I will try to complete tonight... but here is the first half... I hate myself for this - I love this poem and now I have twisted it's beautiful theme to tell of a journey to satisfy carnal pleasure rather than to heal a wounded soul....
Ah well


Day is dawning, tired my eyes
but long-haul flight before me lies.
Come on friends! I hear the call -
We must reach the departure hall.
The lights are bright , the decor grey;
We'll do some shopping on the way
- Booze and fags from "Duty Free":
I hear the tannoy calling me!

Come on friends! Rush to the jet
- board before the stewards fret!
Hours long before me lie
Jammed in a tin-can in the sky!
But islands lie beneath the sun
Where we shall land ere day is done....

to be concluded - I hope...

[HerenIstarion]

Grey as a mouse,
Big as a house,
Nose like a snake,
I make the earth shake,
As I tramp through the grass;
Trees crack as I pass.
With horns in my mouth
I walk in the South,
Flapping big ears.
Beyond count of years
I stump round and round,
Never lie on the ground,
Not even to die.
Oliphaunt am I,
Biggest of all,
Huge, old, and tall.
If ever you'd met me,
You wouldn't forget me.
If you never do,
You won't think I'm true;
But old Oliphaunt am I.
And I never lie.

***

He’s blue as the sea
Belly vast as a lea
Tail like a hose
He makes the sky doze
As he dives to the deep
To take his nap of sleep
With scales on his back
To the North is his tack
Beady black eye
Lung of mighty sigh
Seething back and forth
Making water froth
Never comes ashore
The whale of ole’ lore!
Mighty and wise
One of awful size
In the waves to play
While all sailors pray
‘May he turn aside’
‘Hark! his teeth a-gride’
But he knows his lore
Not to come ashore!