10-14-2004, 02:27 PM | #1 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Bounded in a nut-shell
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The Lay of Ardale
Here's a wee bit of poetry I wrote. Tell me what you think.
I Harken ye, to a story sad,and weep ye now, ye gay and glad! The Lay of Ardale is a dole tale; they sat within a bright green vale- a young soldier and his bright love- while shrouded by dark clouds above Estar’s sundered light was hidden, and was darkened by grief unbidden. ‘Tis in that valley, fair and green, the soldier, he must choose between a summons to a battle-quest or the bright girl he loves the best. The thought that he and she must part weighs heavily upon his heart, but love for land, and duty cold does not release him from its hold and ‘though he knows his heart must break his leave of her he now will take while soft the breezes of grey morn steal down the vale and shake the corn- golden and green, that hedge around- and gently fan the dew-wet ground. Away I must ride, he said then, and join the brave, united men; ere the sun sets upon this day from thou, my love, I must away. The tears fell fast upon her face, her ring she offered with all grace; its shape was of a silver dove With this, said she, take thou my love. Always, love, whate’er betide! And I wilt take thee for my bride if e’er again I shall return from this my quest so cold and stern. II Then about him her arms she cast;and this deed was to be her last, for as her tears he kissed away and she begged him, For one hour, stay, a band of trolls assailed the vale. Their flaming arrows like bright hail set alight the corn-hedge around, they baying, all, like hunting hound who, finding a fox in the field would the thing to his master yield and so shouts for joy with panting hot because he found the thing he sought, glorying more in kill than chase- so they came with terrible pace to where the lovers stood in tears. Their howling pricked upon their ears. The soldier then, without a word, drawing, from out its sheath, his sword, turned, seeking to defend his love. Her token of the silver dove, was shining there upon his hand, and in the vale he made his stand terrible, many trolls slaying, quailing not at their fell baying. But even as his foes retreat, their baying now cries of defeat, somewhere ‘midst them a bowstring sings; her cry about the valley rings. A rose, his love, pierced by a thorn; down she fell upon that grey morn, a great black arrow in her side, and in his arms his bright love died. III Now blood for blood without remorsehe has taken of that fell force, charging after their retreating, slaying swiftly at each meeting, as, in rage, he took them over avenging for him his lover. Now he has placed his love’s cold clay, upon a drear and doleful day, beneath a tall cairn in Ardale- the Red Valley, that bloodstained vale. And there about her stony grave, where ‘round the corn shall ever wave as long as breezes gently blow down from the Craggy Mountains’ snow, the soldier paces, lost in grief from which his heart knows no relief, rueful ever of her still rest wishing with even his own breast he might have stopped that deadly dart that slew his bright love, tender heart; and like the little gift of grace from slender finger in that place she bade him take on that fell morn, that it should his own hand adorn, the truest token of lost love shall ever be a silver dove.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
10-16-2004, 07:39 PM | #2 |
Elf Lord
Join Date: Dec 2000
Location: Fountain Valley, CA
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I read Part 1 of it. I'm in the middle of doing something else, so won't finish it at present. I like Part 1. There were a few places where the rhythm seemed to fail, but not very many. I was surprised by how well the rhythm and rhyming held together.
The part I really remember I would switch was this line: "The tears fell fast upon her face". "Upon" is not the right word there. Otherwise he's crying on her. You see my point? I do like the poem a lot, though. Good use of words, good descriptive writing. Keep it up, for poetry is a great form of art. I have a high respect for people that very much enjoy writing poetry .
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If the world has indeed, as I have said, been built of sorrow, it has been built by the hands of love, because in no other way could the soul of man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. ~Oscar Wilde, written from prison Oscar Wilde's last words: "Either the wallpaper goes, or I do." |
10-21-2004, 01:17 PM | #3 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
Join Date: Jun 2003
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Hm. I see what you mean about that 'upon her face' thing. I wouldn't use a word like 'trailing' or 'sliding' to speak of tears, especially in poetry- something distracting about the words.... Um, I'll think about that one. Thanks!
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
10-23-2004, 11:32 PM | #4 | |
Elf Lord
Join Date: Dec 2000
Location: Fountain Valley, CA
Posts: 6,343
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A pleasure!
Read the second part too now, and enjoyed it . Quote:
. . . now finished Part 3. Good job, Rosie! A well written poem! Good rhyming, and good storytelling.
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If the world has indeed, as I have said, been built of sorrow, it has been built by the hands of love, because in no other way could the soul of man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. ~Oscar Wilde, written from prison Oscar Wilde's last words: "Either the wallpaper goes, or I do." |
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10-25-2004, 01:26 PM | #5 | |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
Join Date: Jun 2003
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Quote:
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! Last edited by Rosie Gamgee : 11-08-2004 at 07:31 PM. |
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10-25-2004, 01:49 PM | #6 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
Join Date: Jun 2003
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Here's a bit of a picture that I drew (not my best, really, but..) kind of based on this poem:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2...Tam/ardale.jpg
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
02-16-2005, 03:18 PM | #7 |
Dúnedain Ranger of the North
Join Date: Aug 2000
Location: The Ruins of Arnor
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Nice artwork! Excellent lay as well Rose!
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"I am an outlaw, I was born an outlaw's son. The highway is my legacy, on the highway I will run." |
02-19-2005, 02:06 PM | #8 | |
Elf Lord
Join Date: Dec 2000
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Quote:
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If the world has indeed, as I have said, been built of sorrow, it has been built by the hands of love, because in no other way could the soul of man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. ~Oscar Wilde, written from prison Oscar Wilde's last words: "Either the wallpaper goes, or I do." |
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02-23-2005, 10:32 AM | #9 | |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Bounded in a nut-shell
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Quote:
LE, thanks for your compliments, too. Yes, I draw a lot. I don't do much fantasy work, really, but a lot of my drawings are from LotR. I draw faces, mostly. This was, I think, my first 'medium shot' drawing, if you will. Yes, I was dissapointed with her shoulders (and neck) as well. They were rather difficult to get to look as they do. The faces in this drawing are actually slightly modified profiles of Cate Blanchet (as Galadriel) and Sean Bean (as Boromir), in case anyone wondered.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |
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05-02-2005, 07:53 PM | #10 |
of the House of Fëanor
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Los Angeles
Posts: 6,150
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Hey! RosieGamgee, that picture is good! I really like the idea of Galadriel and Boromir together like this, for an instant; classically romantic...
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Few people have the imagination for reality.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Last edited by Lotesse : 05-02-2005 at 07:57 PM. |
05-02-2005, 08:02 PM | #11 |
of the House of Fëanor
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Los Angeles
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This prose poem/story is beautiful. I'm in a teary mood at the moment, and your poem twanged a sad heart-string in me, in a poignant way. Choked me up in the back of my throat...VERY well done. Thanx!
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Few people have the imagination for reality.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe |
05-04-2005, 09:29 AM | #12 |
The Lovely Hobbit-Lass
Join Date: Jun 2003
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Wow! Thank you for your complement. I'm a weepy sort of person myself, and I rather like stories that make me cry. I'm thrilled, really, that something I wrote had this kind of effect on someone.
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It's New Years Day, just like the day before; Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor. Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again, How can I take this losing hand and somehow win? Just give me One Good Year To get my feet back on the ground. I've been chasing grace; Grace ain't so easily found One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I've got to get out of here, just give me One Good Year! |