Henneth Annûn Story Archive

OH, Tay!

You really knocked one out of the park with this one! Wow! I've added it to my recommended reading list. It's exactly the kind of thing any frightened child would want to hear from a parent; that reassurance that no matter what, Mommy and Daddy will always be with you.

The phrasing is also fantastic. Nice sense of rhythm and nothing sounds forced. Perfect!

Lasbelindi

P.S. Thanks for your comments on my other poem. I'm posting a reply to you in a bit!

 

Oh, Tay, how beautiful! How truly beautiful. I love your enumeration of all the many perils, and how they will do to face them. They all flow naturally into the other. I especially liked the third stanza. How powerful, and also, how insightful. It is very deep. Some other of the phrases you used that I particularly liked: fathomless deep, endless hour, bodiless rider, "no winter's breath, no fear nor death" was so poignant that I am nearly speechless.

I was enthralled by the idea that this was first sung as a promise between lovers, and afterwards sung for the little one at home. It brought so many images to me that I am about to weep. I just thought of how hard it must be to be a warrior's wife, and all the things you must do to keep yourself strong for yourself, your husband, and your children, when everything is against you. These ladies sure sacrificed a lot, as so many women today do.

The fifth stanza was also beautifully placed, because it is like a gleam of hope that you hold on to. And, the last stanza just grabbed me. What a nice flow of meaningful ideas!

Thanks very much Tay. This has given me a lot to think about

 

Lovely, Tay! Very, very lovely.
I especially liked this one

Nor time, nor chance, nor circumstance
Nor waves that carry me over the foam
Nor winter’s breath, nor fear, nor death
Can keep my heart from coming home

For some reason it reminds me of the song of the Ent and the Ent-wife, which I’ve always loved.

~acacia

 

For me? Thank you! Don't you think that that sort of cross-inspiration is one of the loveliest things about this place? That was such a beautiful phrase it deserved a piece of its own.

Reading this I saw it as being by a Ranger of the North. My favourite line - I stand on the line when the shadow creeps in reminded me of that lovely bit at the Council of Elrond where Aragorn is explaining what the Dunedain do. I also really like the suggestion that this would have once been a lover's promise and has now become a reassurance for a child. I just have this picture of this mother saying with her child each night as they wait in a little candle-lit house for their soldier who is out in the dark somewhere. There are lots of other great phrases but that's the one that sings to me.

I also love the first and last verses - for the strong rhyme which just pulls you into the poem. That last verse in particular is haunting me already ;-) I have another picture to go with it - the soldier riding home through the darkness, heading for that house where his light is. He's wounded and as the mist gather around him and he keeps slumping onto the horse's neck he mutters and mouths, over and over again,
Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you... as the last thread to tie him to who he is... Hope you don't mind me making my own pictures to go with your poems but that's what I do with poetry.

Beautiful work, Tay!

Avon

(Oh, one minor query - should valar be Valar? Or was the non-capitalisation a deliberate choice?)

*Now may the Valar grant that *this* post doesn't get eaten....!

 

Lasbelindi

Thanks for the compliments, though I feel like something of a fraud accepting them. After encouraging you guys to try the measured steps of the interlocked verse, I just let this pour out of me without any concern for anything (well, not quite true – meter and “mouth-sound,” my two big loves) Both are worthwhile ventures, though! I think all those weeks of pairing and discarding rhymes had prepared my brain with a list of phrases that I plundered here.

The meter is not based on anything at all, but now that my head is clearing about it a little, I am envisioning first hoofbeats, and then spinning with a child in your arms, a sort of frenzied waltz. And I think I am seeing pacing echoes of the part in The Dark Is Rising when The Walker performs the ‘calling in’ though I did not have either of these things in my mind when I wrote it. (What I had in my mind was – its 5am – scribble down that phrase and let’s go to bed before Jim has to get up.)

 

Starlight

More than anything I have written for a long while, I am still seeing this as a whole piece and not focusing on ‘strong here – weak here’ etc. I have two places – maybe three – where I might want to change single words – but I am not going to tell you guys just yet, and wait to see if they bother anyone but me.

Three and Five – ahh, the verses that say “Ranger?” and I thought I was being so circumspect!

I must admit, it was the dancing rhythm of the even verses that got hold of me – I only scribbled the first bit down so my notes might make some sense in the morning- and it shook itself and flew. But I, too, fall into three and five. I still catch my breath for three and five.

 

Acacea

For some reason it reminds me of the song of the Ent and the Ent-wife, which I’ve always loved.

Having my work compared with anything from the text is like winning first prize! I think perhaps you are sensing something I didn’t say aloud – that if you take each odd+even pair, they could be meant to be sung back and forth between the lovers – like the ents and the entwives, a little. I mentioned somewhere (Faramir’s Terzanelle??) that I like love poetry best when it turns itself into two voices and you can’t always tell which is which.

 

Avon

As if that throttler of a story Colours of the Forest you wrote wasn’t enough – I got this as a gift out of it!

I do seem to have exposed my Ranger longing – it was the spiders, wasn’t it - they were your fault! Maybe it was winter’s breath? Maybe my subconscious is a blabbermouth. Yes, it says rangers to me as well, but I thought I had kept it neutral! The brain tells terrible fibs if you don’t sleep!

My favourite line - I stand on the line when the shadow creeps in reminded me of that lovely bit at the Council of Elrond where Aragorn is explaining what the Dunedain do.

Oh, what a lovely moment to evoke! I was there, and I was also thinking of the Osgiliath rout.

I just have this picture of this mother saying with her child each night as they wait in a little candle-lit house for their soldier who is out in the dark somewhere.

As starlight will surely say if I don’t beat her to it – my gods! That’s lovely and you must write it for us!

the soldier riding home through the darkness, heading for that house where his light is. He's wounded and as the mist gather around him and he keeps slumping onto the horse's neck he mutters and mouths, over and over again,
Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you... as the last thread to tie him to who he is... Hope you don't mind me making my own pictures to go with your poems but that's what I do with poetry.

Having pictures come back to me – especially from something I touched –is amazing. You guys have been making me weep all day, thinking about our words and pictures commingling around the globe. I am so moved by your wounded rider, and his love and devotion – please let him get home!

valar / Valar – I just don’t have a grasp of capitals and punctuation in poems – very e e cummings, perhaps? I tend to use gods with a small g in real life – the valar are equivalent. How about it, guys? Big V Valar?

A million thanks for setting this spark.

 

Tay, that was... gorgeous. It's simple yet incredibly cleverly-worded and has the credibility of being sung in dark forests for ages past. it feels utterly real and natural, whereas the implicit work and mastery of verse and word behind it is impressive. You are a bard, Tay.
I want to learn it by heart and chant it in the evening and should I have children sing it to them... It's Middle-Earth in all its primal ressemblance to the real world, regardless of the Valar or some of the specific perils of the night... it transcends all cultures almost. Wow am I spinning out of it here. I had imagined it somewhat Sam and Frodo at first reading but I much prefer your own explanation. Ack, going to go back and memorize some of it now. Beautiful and scary and reassuring both. Love it. CONGRATS!!
Pika

 

Pika

Thanks for peeking in, and I am so glad the poem is working for you, since your gil-galad had me in gales of laughter and bursts of tears.

It does seem to want to be sung, and I have not been able to get it out of my own head – I thought writing them down was supposed to defang the little buggers!

I am especially pleased that it is reaching that universal place. Don’t let my rangers stop you from having Sam and Frodo – in my own heart I have two rangers, one in the north and one in the south, who cannot leave their ridings to be together. But I would be just as pleased to have Aragorn and Arwen or The Twins or your two beautiful Gondor Brothers in black leather share it!

Beautiful and scary and reassuring

I am overwhelmed to see just the ideas I strove for coming through! This has been incredible.

 

As starlight will surely say if I don’t beat her to it – my gods! That’s lovely and you must write it for us

Oh don't tempt me! I've got to fit in being an assistant principal as of Monday and try to control my HA addiction ;-) Besides I'm sure I couldn't write a Rangers story, I say in my best anti-nuzgul voice - while little pictures keep creeping into my brain...

I am so moved by your wounded rider, and his love and devotion – please let him get home!

Fond as I am of the darkness I think I'd have to let him get home - but who's to say it would be alive?

valar / Valar – I just don’t have a grasp of capitals and punctuation in poems – very e e cummings, perhaps? I tend to use gods with a small g in real life – the valar are equivalent. How about it, guys? Big V Valar?


Well, I probably do think it looks odd partly because I'd always use capital g for God - but I think Tolkien also capitalised it.

Avon

(And you are so right about this amazing connection of words, minds and pictures across the world.)

 

I am so moved by your wounded rider, and his love and devotion – please let him get home!

Fond as I am of the darkness I think I'd have to let him get home - but whos to say it would be alive?


Oh, Avon! You are evil indeed! I don't know whether to weep or write it!

 

Hmmm... and now you've distracted me by suggesting the poem could be read to be about the Twins ^^ ^^!! I like that too (but I'm assuming a brotherly kiss - Twincest is definitely not somewhere I'm going.

Nah, I do think he should get home - that way you get the final twist because she'll nurse him up until he's well enough to leave for one more day of fighting, one more day of woe ... Oh damnit, I am going to have to try.

Avon

 

Avon wrote:

I have another picture to go with it - the soldier riding home through the darkness, heading for that house where his light is. He's wounded and as the mist gather around him and he keeps slumping onto the horse's neck he mutters and mouths, over and over again,

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you

I loved this poem the first time I read it, but after reading this I had to gulp real hard to keep from crying, because in my *not so short story* in a chapter that is as yet not written except in my notes Garulf comes home to Edrys wounded and these lines fit so perfectly. Dare I ask if I may use those lines in the chapter header - with the proper attribution of course? It's still a long way from completion, so people won't see it for awhile, but I had to ask.

~Nessime

 

I would be honoured, indeed.

I am quite amazed at the power this poem is picking up as it grows through interpretation.

 

Okay, stream of consciousness instant story - (like Instand potato probably not much good but I just gad to do something with this *now*

******

Light the candles, lay the table, put the dinner on… she goes about her nightly chores. The pig, the hens and the old grey dog are fed and watered and sheltered for the night but he has not come. The lonely dinner’s eaten, the dishes washed and dried, the water bucket filled but still he does not come. The little one, the baby, their raven-headed son, is washed and dressed for bed – but daddy has not come. She banks the fire, draws the curtains close and pulls the latchstring in for still he hasn’t come.

By the fire she sits - once young, not old, brown haired, grey-eyed, eyes steady but heart aglow. She is a Ranger’s woman and she will not fall to shadow. She pulls the curtains wider and lifts a candle to the glass. Outside the house lays darkness, but outside the house is her man – let others hide from the nameless things that creep from the houseless hills.

Her little boy whimpers and cries for the breast and she fetches him to the fire. She feeds him and rocks and remembers her lover, remembers his hand on her and his voice in her ear.

A hand on a swordhilt, a hand on a bow
A kiss that consoles me wherever I go
One more day of fighting, one more day of woe
A kiss that consoles me wherever I go

No black spell singers, no death that lingers,
No icy fingers that reach for the soul
No hiss, no bark, no wings in the dark
Can touch my heart when you keep me whole.

He’d sung her the lay on their bonding day, chanted it out for her soft and low as he took her hand, took her dress, took her soul. She whispered it back to him, quiet and close, each time he left for his perilous fight. She closes her eyes and whispers it now.


Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I grieve for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you.

It’s their promise, their hope, their dream. She sleeps with it, eats with, lives with it when the fell voices call and the dark winds blow. It flows though her with the glory of trumpets when she sees the grey horse come, when she hears the rumble of deep voice and the scrape of boots, when she smells the smoke and sweat… it haunts her when the hours stretch on and the darkness thins to an empty dawn.

I stand on the line when the shadow creeps in
But I will be with you before day begins
We harry the dark and we weep for our sins
But I will be with you before day begins.

Sated, the boy sleeps until a coal tumbles down then he stirs and sits.

“Daddy? Daddy?”

With a hush and a kiss she holds him close. With a stroke of his cheek, a kiss on his hair she whispers the words for both of them to share:

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I grieve for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you

No giant spider, no bodiless rider,
no terror by fire that crosses the land
no dark, no bright, no perilous fight
can come between us when I reach for your hand

I stand on the line when the shadow creeps in
But I will be with you before day begins
We harry the dark and we weep for our sins
But I will be with you before day begins

No orcs that creep, no nightmare sleep
No fathomless deep, no wizard’s scheme
No endless hour can raise the power
To keep us apart when you’re in my dreams

A hand on a swordhilt, a hand on a bow
A kiss that consoles me wherever I go
One more day of fighting, one more day of woe
A kiss that consoles me wherever I go

No black spell singers, no death that lingers,
No icy fingers that reach for the soul
No hiss, no bark, no wings in the dark
Can touch my heart when you keep me whole

Nor time, nor chance, nor circumstance
Nor waves that carry me over the foam
Nor winter’s breath, nor fear, nor death
Can keep my heart from coming home

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you...

The candle burns, the chair rocks, the fire hisses and sighs and the two voices whisper:

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I grieve for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you

No giant spider, no bodiless rider,
no terror by fire that crosses the land
no dark, no bright, no perilous fight
can come between us when I reach for your hand…



Out in the darkness, out in the land, on a road that runs through sunless woods and over houseless hills and past foes that would freeze your heart, a Ranger is riding. Blood slicks the saddle and hands grasp the mane as the horse heads for home. Home, dreams the rider and in his mind he sees that house shining out its light to the dark-edged hills, sees that house where his light is. He opens in his eyes and sees his woman, sees his child, though the road is empty and cold. His mouth moves and he whispers his chant.

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you...

The mist is gathering around him now,

Whatever the valar intend me to do

gathering him into it.

There’s naught with the power to keep me from you

Dark it blinds him, thick it chokes him.

Whatever I long for, whatever I rue

and he slumps on the horse’s neck, twists the reins around his arms – she’ll take him home if he does not fall -

There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you...

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you...

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you...

His lips are cracked, his voice is dry but he mutters and mouths the words, the lay for his love, the last thread binding him to who he is, binding him to Ardar….

Whatever the valar intend me to do
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
Whatever I long for, whatever I rue
There’s naught with the power to keep me from you
There’s naught with the power to keep me ….


Nor winter’s breath, nor fear, nor death
Can keep my heart from coming home.

Finis





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

Avon

(not the story I thought I was writing, either)

***Edit - and I should have pointed out that as well as stealing Tay's poem entirely I've also lifted several small phrases from Tolkien.

 

Thank you!

~Nessime

 

Oh gods! How wonderful this is… do people get entire stories in their forums all the time? I am feeling quite spoiled!


Avon, you have no idea how many of my personal archetypes you hit with this. Now the hair on the back of my neck is standing up to match my arms.

He’d sung her the lay on their bonding day, chanted it out for her soft and low as he took her hand, took her dress, took her soul.

Already you have me weeping

The candle burns, the chair rocks, the fire hisses and sighs and the two voices whisper

Out in the darkness, out in the land, on a road that runs through sunless woods and over houseless hills and past foes that would freeze your heart, a Ranger is riding. Blood slicks the saddle and hands grasp the mane as the horse heads for home. Home, dreams the rider and in his mind he sees that house shining out its light to the dark-edged hills, sees that house where his light is. He opens in his eyes and sees his woman, sees his child, though the road is empty and cold. His mouth moves and he whispers his chant.

oh my gods – I am seeing my own verse in use just as I envisioned it. As though it was… primal….


Amazing. A sacred day of thanks and tears.

If I never get the words to come again, I will still always remember this day, the day the words flew back and forth, and you all gave me words, and I wrote from them, and you wrote from mine.

I imagine being published is a thrill – but how can it compare to this kind of exchange, the immediacy of feeling the words circling the globe.

-- gaudete --

 

I was up at 3 am this morning to go to an ANZAC Day dawn service and it's 10:43 now here so I gotta go to bed - but it has been the most amazing day, agreed.

*hugs*

Avon

 

Is it ok to weep? I guess not if my keyboard is in danger of being damaged because of water falling over it. You have no idea how much this has touched me... I don't think I have words to say... this is incredibly amazing... something like this had never happened to me before until now, and I have you guys to thank for it. As you were saying, this exchange of images across the globe, and how the same things touch us in different levels, but yet we "experience" these things, we "feel" them so close and so truly.

Thanks, Avon, for writing Colors of the Forest, and Tay, for writing Home by Morning, and then Avon again for giving us the Ranger's story (and, may I suggest that you post this as a story, perhaps for the Anything but Ordinary nuzgul?), and all of you guys for sharing and just making my life richer every day... well, I must stop now before I get all sentimental and keep weeping. You have no idea how much this has moved me.

BIG THANKS!

 

Okay, nice going girls. You've made the toxic harpy, Lasbelindi, cry. I hate to cry! I never cry! Ohhhhh. Why'd I even start this blasted challenge anyway?!

Must seek klenex now.

Before I do, Avon, you should take Starlight's advice. Post this story somewhere! We've never met, but I think I'll drop you a note in your thread. Nice to meet you.

Lasi

 

Avon, you have no idea how many of my personal archetypes you hit with this. Now the hair on the back of my neck is standing up to match my arms.

*grin* Perhaps it was you I was channelling - because I'm darned if I know who wrote it. The words literally just came and I typed. There's only about one sentence I worked over in my usual fashion. Strangely enough it also came to me in a sort of chant with a rhyme behind it... there was obviously some strange alignment of stars over the last two days ;-) We'll have to ask Faramir about that ;-)


Amazing. A sacred day of thanks and tears.

If I never get the words to come again, I will still always remember this day, the day the words flew back and forth, and you all gave me words, and I wrote from them, and you wrote from mine.

I imagine being published is a thrill – but how can it compare to this kind of exchange, the immediacy of feeling the words circling the globe.

I can't put it better. I could hang up my pen today because I may never reproduce the linking of minds and ideas that happened across the miles last night.

Thank you for the poem, and the appreciation of the pictures I made with it.

Avon

 

Is it ok to weep? I guess not if my keyboard is in danger of being damaged because of water falling over it. You have no idea how much this has touched me...

My keyboard has survived a multitude of tears over trhe months I've owned it ;-) Starlight, thanks so much for being here to share your response. Writing it was one thing but it's when you put it out there and someone lets you know that they saw your pictures too, that it touched them, that it moved them to tears? That's incredible, that's what burns into your soul as a writer.

then Avon again for giving us the Ranger's story (and, may I suggest that you post this as a story, perhaps for the Anything but Ordinary nuzgul?),

Maybe. If Tay gives permission for her work to be reproduced in it and if in a day or two I can step back from it and think it is okay... right at the moment it's just so unme I don't know what to think of it (as a piece of writing - as a piece of communication I know it worked). Thanks for the suggestion - I never expected ti to be that successful.

*hugs*


Avon

 

And since I wrote this this morning I've realised that I must have been channelling Tay, indeed - check it out, almost everyhting is in threes ;-) I knew I needed it for the rhythm that was in my head, the rhythm I heard the words in but it wasn't until today (in the mall again ) that I remembered how Tay and things in threes in connected. I know three is a magic number but weird none-the-less (nice weird!)

Since I wrote this this morning I've been sent the other piece of fiction inspired by 'Home by Morning' (I won't out anyone but like Tay's mum said - sharing's good ) - and seen how someone else on the other side of the world at almost the same time could find the same sort of pictures in Tay's poem.... amazing!!

Avon

 

I fear intruding, as such a latecomer to the thread, but...

It does seem to want to be sung,

It's 3 in the morning where I am, and I stumbled across Avon's Colours of the Forest and your poem, Tay, and then this thread and Avon's other story only a little while ago - and now I'm sitting here trying to put it music, because I swear it *is* singing to me...

This is very powerful stuff. Soulfelt thanks to you, Tay, for the poem, and to you, Avon, for your stories, which are equally powerful, and to all the rest of you for contributing. It may not have happened on the same night as you, but it's certainly been an extraordinary experience for me.

~Leonora

 

Hi Leonora! Lovely to meet you - 'intruders' are always welcome Nah, there's no such thing as an intruder - that's what I love about this place

It's such a thrill to know that you have reached anyone else - you know, we're all so drenchd by the electronic Anduin at the moment you wonder whether anyone else can see it or are we imagining it.. Thank you very much for your kind feedback.

Avon

 

we're all so drenchd b y the electronic Anduin at the moment you wonder whther anyone else can see it or are we imaging it

You're not imagining it.


-Rachel

 

Avon, you do seem to have the triad thing going on in this story- not surprising really, since the poem itself has a grip on them. (and three is a magic number! )

I have never been channeled, before, let alone in my ranger persona – it is interesting to be on this side of it! As I guess you know yourself, since Starlight did such a lovely job channeling you through your Legolas!


Maybe. If Tay gives permission for her work to be reproduced in it and if in a day or two I can step back from it and think it is okay... right at the moment it's just so unme I don't know what to think of it (as a piece of writing - as a piece of communication I know it worked). Thanks for the suggestion - I never expected ti to be that successful.

I would be pleased to have us post as a collaborative team – and I think our silent partner should post, too (possibly with us!) to show the leavetaking aspects, and to show the different spins.

I too need to take one step back before we do it – (ducks and covers) I still might want to change three spots Honestly, this is the first draft – something I never do, and I still wonder what possessed me to post it without at least one re-read. I just felt – compelled. (Faramir, what about those stars?) I still need to run it past the world’s best slash-and-burn Beta, and then we are good to go.

Leonora-
Welcome, indeed. Another person reading verse! I would never have believed it! Thanks for reading, and for coming in to comment – it is knowing that someone is reading that makes it so exciting to go on!


Shadow! Hi shadow! C’mon in and don’t forget to breathe!

 

I would be pleased to have us post as a collaborative team – and I think our silent partner should post, too (possibly with us!) to show the leavetaking aspects, and to show the different spins.

I too need to take one step back before we do it – (ducks and covers) I still might want to change three spots Honestly, this is the first draft – something I never do, and I still wonder what possessed me to post it without at least one re-read. I just felt – compelled. (Faramir, what about those stars?) I still need to run it past the world’s best slash-and-burn Beta, and then we are good to go

Yep, either I'm still reading it through rose-coloured glasses or it is okay - though there is some editing needed and the second paragraph needs redoing. I want to find out if the ending works for other people.... I also never post first draft (well except for Colours - it's been a week of exceptions for me). I had a rough outline of how I could write the story - but it would have taken me days and I didn't have the time and I just felt that I had to write it now for Tay... it just came when I decided to try.

Definitely our silent partner should post too - however we post it; separately with links, as a collaborative effort - whatever.

Avon

 

we're all so drenchd b y the electronic Anduin at the moment you wonder whther anyone else can see it or are we imaging it

You're not imagining it.

Thank you! (And sorry for the abysmal typing - I only ever see the typos too late

Avon

 

Avon said: It's such a thrill to know that you have reached anyone else - you know, we're all so drenchd b y the electronic Anduin at the moment you wonder whther anyone else can see it or are we imaging it..

I'll second Rachel on that - you're not.

Tay said: Welcome, indeed. Another person reading verse! I would never have believed it! Thanks for reading, and for coming in to comment – it is knowing that someone is reading that makes it so exciting to go on!

I read verse because I write it, or try to. And it's always a thrill to come across something which leaves me with more to say than 'This is great, I liked it'. Giving feedback can be as much of a struggle as soliciting it.

The story has a sad ending for me, if a slightly different one to what Avon has written, because I'm thinking of Gilraen waiting for Arathorn, who *doesn't* make it home...

~Leonora

 

then Avon again for giving us the Ranger's story (and, may I suggest that you post this as a story, perhaps for the Anything but Ordinary nuzgul?),

Maybe. If Tay gives permission for her work to be reproduced in it...

I'd like to add my voice in support of this. What the two of you did with this is utterly amazing. And Tay has even me attempting poetry. Oh good Lord! what have I gotten myself into?

That must give you some inkling of how inspiring this has been. Just to be a spectator through this process has been incredible!

(((Hugs))) to both of you!

~Nessime

 

And it's always a thrill to come across something which leaves me with more to say than 'This is great, I liked it'. Giving feedback can be as much of a struggle as soliciting it.


I know just what you mean - I haven't left feedback for some of my very favourite stories because all I can find to say is 'I love it'.

The story has a sad ending for me, if a slightly different one to what Avon has written, because I'm thinking of Gilraen waiting for Arathorn, who *doesn't* make it home...

Oh wow! I love that twist too - I love the way stories (poems) can mean so many different things to each reader. I'm off to reread it with that idea in mind now ;-) Incidentally - and not to stop anyone reading it any way they like - personally I see the ranger arriving home dead.

Avon

 

And Tay has even me attempting poetry. Oh good Lord! what have I gotten myself into?


That's just how I feel!

Hugs back - thank you so much for the encouragement. I can't believe I wrote any of the last three things I've done - far less POSTED them!

Avon

 

Home just cleared review, and has been accepted. I am generally not overly concerned with negative feedback on poetry, but I think this poem is very accessable - still it hung for days with the last reviewer. I had some negative feedback for weak plot/weak ending, and I am wondering if it may need one last overhaul...

Please speak up if you have suggestions! I almost never rework verse once I have decided it is done, or I would never stop. But I sense this poem having a life of its own, and of course, I would like it to be as good as it can be.

Does it need more clarity? Sharper sense of story?

An additional even rhymed verse before no time, no chance...? (I liked the two "fast" verses at the end - I thought it speeded everything up, made him seem more anxious; desperate to get home)

Do the repeating words (creep, death...) intrude too much into the flow?

Or should I just assume some reviewers get nervous when they see verse? I have put quite a lot of very different kinds of verse through the process now, and only "Ascension" went through clean - with all 9 passes... I think people are afraid to tick Denethor off... ("No,man - you tell him his poetry sucks!")

Anyway, thanks to you all for the tremendous support you showed for this little song right from the very start. I was very glad to see it come home this morning!

 

I can see what you mean by it being like a pop song. It would be lovely set to music - I can almost hear it in my head when I read it. Now if only I could spent longer at my parents house, where our electronic organ lives I'd write one. With some nice simple chords as I haven't played much in 6 years and have forgotten them.


Nic

 

(I liked the two "fast" verses at the end - I thought it speeded everything up, made him seem more anxious; desperate to get home)

That's exactly how those lines made me feel, only I didn't know how to say it.

I had some negative feedback for weak plot/weak ending,...

I won't say what I'm thinking right now, because the whole darned thing was a strong plot, and the end...Geesh, how much stronger do they want it to be? Am I really that dense?

I'll leave now before I get myself into trouble!

~Nessime

Yikes, knock me over the head or something! I forgot to say Congratulations! Must have been the shock of reading the other part of your post. *still shaking my head in disbelief*

 

Hi Tay!

Congrats! I told you there was nothing to be nervous about! I know it can't be helped. When you put those things through the reviewing process, it feels like you've just sent your infant off to spend the day with her 17 year old cousin--and her stoner boyfriend--and they're going to the beach. AHHHHHHHH! So scary.

I personally think it's pretty darn good as it is. I like the simple elegance of it. If you try to tweek it any more you might be tempted to make it sound more sophisticated, which is where your usual style tends, and this might diminish some of the emotion of the piece as a whole. Nobody wants that! Well deary, there's my buck fifty's worth.

Lasbelindi

 

Congratulations - and I wouldn't change it. One out of 9? That's personal opinion - most people seem to have well and truly found a story and ending in it.

Thank you for the permission to use it in my Ranger story and I'll be popping it into beta shortly while I think about *its* weak ending ;-)

Avon

 

Done. It's up as Promises to Keep (at least for now - not sure about the title).

Avon

 

Congratulations, Tay, on getting 'Home by Morning' accepted! And, thanks very much for sharing it with us, too. I would not change anything as it is. That is your way of expressing and sharing things that are close to your heart, and that touched so many of us in one way or other. It takes great courage to share something like that, and I admire you for it. That day has to be one of my favorite days, when we were all so close and in tune with each other, and that is a unique experience I will treasure.

About the poem, perhaps those things that you mention are the ones that I like the most! The repeating words somehow remind me of the galloping rider, with every step (repeating word) getting closer to home (and I think I am channeling Avon here ) And the fast verses at the end just echo that feeling of anxiety, of, indeed, getting close to home, at last!) I agree with you when you say that this poem has a life of its own. I think we were able to feel that.

Thanks again, Tay. Please, keep sharing your beautiful talent

Starlight

 

Thanks for the additional input, guys. I was away from my desk all day, (just dragged my sorry self home at 2 am) so I had some chance to think about it through the day.

I think it was the actual comment choice - weak plot /weak ending that threw me - since it isn't narrative, there really isn't any way to work on that (even if I were willing, and I have finally decided I am not.) It seems to have no bearing on the kind of poem this is.

Strangely, I would have been less thrown by weak writing, or too AU, etc. - because I could have thought about those things. I am not bothered by receiving negative reviews, (well, you know what I mean- I would rather have an honest opinion) since I am here to learn - but try as I might I can't figure out what this reviewer means. And there is no information associated with this review that shows me where I let that reader down. (I know that 9/1 is a pretty good indication that this was a matter of taste - but I am interested in knowing. I will never be tired of wanting to know.

It is strange sending verse through the review process - my reviews, both good and bad, have often left me puzzled.

Anyway, I am still obsessing about the no's/nor's a bit, but I have decided it is time to put this down until it feels like it belongs to me again.

When it came home to me this morning, I was surprised to find that when I read it again, I was still happy with it, not thinking about the changes I might make as much as thinking about what I like. That is pretty unusual for me!

And I will always love this piece because it was my marker in the Electronic Anduin.

 

Hi Tay – Congratulations for having your poem accepted!

I too share your puzzlement over the weak plot /weak ending review. I received a similar unexplained decline for “Watching Thoughts” which isn’t really narrative, though I do try to explain a process in Arwen’s poem. I think it is simply a case of poems, rather inappropriately perhaps, being put through the criteria for stories, although I can think of some excellent short prose vignettes that just capture a moment or a thought or an aspect of character.

I’m a complete beginner and fully accept I have a long way to go! So I’m quite happy to accept critiscm for weak writing, which I did, especially when a reviewer takes the trouble to explain their decision and give some useful feedback.

 

Yowch! You're brave! I haven't got a 'weak writing' yet (though I'm building up a good range) but I have to admit I think I'll be crawling under the sofa when I do get one ;-)

Avon

 

 

Hi Avon,

Yowch! You're brave! I haven't got a 'weak writing' yet (though I'm building up a good range) but I have to admit I think I'll be crawling under the sofa when I do get one ;-)

I think I'd be far more likely to be upset if it was for my prose. I suppose it's because I think that, although all reactions to writing are subjective, the way someone responds to poetry is particularly so. It's far easier just not to 'get it' in some way or another. I know there are poems that I was forced to read at school, the great classics of the English language not less, that I just didn't see the point of at all - we had to learn them by heart and then write them out with marks deducted for a wrong comma or semicolon in the wrong place - how to utterly destroy all interest in poetry or what?! It was only much later that the penny dropped and I saw what was really there. Not that I'm putting myself in that league! but I hope you see what I mean.

It might also be that I’ve decided that I’m not too bothered whether my poems make it in to HASA or not. I know there are at least some people about who read and get something out of them and will give well thought out criticism when I need it, and that’s just great as it is.

 

Yowch! You're brave! I haven't got a 'weak writing' yet (though I'm building up a good range) but I have to admit I think I'll be crawling under the sofa when I do get one ;-)

Looking at what I got for Dropping Eaves all the declines were weak writing and weak plotting. I'm actually quite happy with that because the reviewers in question said stuff along the lines of 'the story is pointless' and I can see why they said it.

I think I'd be more unhappy if I got the decline equivalent of 'strong characterisation'.


Nic

 

Congratulations Tay, it certainly deserved to be accepted. And reading Avon’s piece has served to remind me how much I loved this the moment I read it.

I think I'd be more unhappy if I got the decline equivalent of 'strong characterisation'.

*gasp*. Yes, that would not be fun at all!. Downright scary in fact. So’s 'weak writing' for that matter but yes, this one would be scarier

 

*gasp*. Yes, that would not be fun at all!. Downright scary in fact. So’s 'weak writing' for that matter but yes, this one would be scarier

Phew, yes definitely! Being pulled up for mangling a favourite character! That one might stop me dead in my tracks permanently!

 

Alawa, I am so please your Watching Thoughts went through! I just love both of the pieces, and they are even stronger as a pair. One thing I love in both your “couple” pairings is that you let the form speak in the voice of the partner – saying as much as the words. Verse is sneaky – I try to do that with titles, like the cat triolets – a way to wedge one more idea in. You do it so well.

Well if we are receiving the same kind of declines, I am much more willing to think it is how people think of poetry, not my poetry! (Welcome to denial 101)

I received “undistinguished writing” for Anglachel. Well, it’s not my best work, but I am secure enough not to be bothered there – Anglachel says exactly what I want it to say. If I had gotten it for Elanor, I would have said – yeah, I did try to make that sound “light” and I pushed a little hard. If I had gotten it for my prose, I would have huddled in the corner.

I find that the criticism I most often receive (for all my verse) is that it is a fragment – it really makes me wonder what people expect from poetry. More than once I have had the remark – this would have been better used in a story. Well, it would have been different in a story, but isn’t verse worthwhile on its own? It is to me! I went on at some length about this in the review area of the verse forum but I reached no conclusions and so I stopped.

Anyway, I am un-dampenable about Home - one of those unexpected moments as a writer where I was just pleased to be the hands involved. I will be very interested to see what happens when Avon sends Promises To Keep to review – I wonder if they will fault that lovely vignette for having verse in it??


we had to learn them by heart and then write them out with marks deducted for a wrong comma or semicolon in the wrong place - how to utterly destroy all interest in poetry or what?! It was only much later that the penny dropped and I saw what was really there.

please take a peek at what I just wrote to Nic about how verse is taught as a punishment in the triolet forum!!


I have not had weak characterization yet, but when I get it, I hope it shows up for verse and not prose or I will be whimpering behind the sofa for days!!

 

Well if we are receiving the same kind of declines, I am much more willing to think it is how people think of poetry, not my poetry!

Which makes me wonder why they're reviewing it in that case. I certainly won't review poetry, even if its funny (and I'll read anything funny) because I know I can't be objective about it.


Nic

 

I wonder if it is meant to be a vote against poetry in general...

 

I wonder if it is meant to be a vote against poetry in general...

Oh, gracious! I surely hope not! That's a terrible thought. Do you
really think that could be the case? Or were you being facetious and I'm just being a ninnyhammer?

You know what? I just read Home By Morning again, and the Electronic Anduin came flooding into my house! OOOps.

Please don't be angry, but another verse for that poem pulled me under the water and wouldn't let me back up until I wrote it down. I hope you don't think it presumptuous that I wrote it. I think it's kind of an interesting, thought--fanfiction--of fanfiction! Heh, heh.

I probably shouldn't be posting it here. Actually, I'll wait to get permission from you, Tay before I even share it at all. If you want to see it, let me know.

Salute!

Lasbelindi

 

Home is one of the few things I have ever written that I am sure is done.

But please share the verse with us here- I would love to see what it said to you.

 

Hiya!

Just checking in before crawling off to bed. BTW, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY EVERYBODY! I'm not a mom, but I know a lot of us are around here, so there it is.

Okay, Tay; if you think it's alright, I'll just post the stanza that nearly drowned me today.

No haunted cave, nor watery grave,
No treacherous slave who snaps at my feet
Can gain on my stride; let him run--let him ride!
For I'll take to the sky to reach you, my sweet.

In my mind, the "haunted cave" refers to the Paths of the Dead, while the "watery grave" refers to the Dead Marshes. Well, there it is. Hope you like it, Tay! It's really meant as a compliment.

Salute!

Lasi

 

Yowch! You're brave! I haven't got a 'weak writing' yet (though I'm building up a good range) but I have to admit I think I'll be crawling under the sofa when I do get one ;-)

There ya go - I got two and I'm not typing this from under the sofa!! ;-) (That I don't own a sofa and I woudn't fit under one anyway being minor points ). Does sting a little but not as badly as I expected. Does help that the piece got through with some very nice comments.

Avon

 

No haunted cave, nor watery grave,
No treacherous slave who snaps at my feet
Can gain on my stride; let him run--let him ride!
For I'll take to the sky to reach you, my sweet.

Lasi, Thanks for sharing your verse with us. It is so amazing to me to see the different directions this poem has taken people in. I know the Paths are a very powerful image for you. Your first two lines seemed to me that they could be from our courageous Gimli there, telling himself to go on!!!

I thought about the paths of the dead myself a little when I wrote it, my ranger has a connection to it, but when I got to putting it down, I decided to push myself to find “generic” rather than “specific” terrors.

I thought/hoped that readers would see lots of different characters, cannon and personal, in the desire to get home. What seems funny to me about that now is that so many of the private responses I have gotten have mentioned specifically that the reader thought it was written in Sam’s voice!! And I think I caused that - that happens because of the giant spider right up at the top – they were Mirkwood spiders to me, but there is no discounting how powerful some images are in the collective unconscious. Shelob is a literary monster, as well as a terror in the dark! Well, I love Sam, and I am proud of him, and if he wants to stand up and be recognized there, I will applaud him, too!!

If I were going to second guess myself at this stage, I might consider moving that verse further down. But, as I said, this poem, in my own head, is so done. (I tried to add a private verse for my two rangers, and the poem is just not having it.) And for my own ear to heart connection – I will always know those first three terrors were the first three terrors!! So, there they will stay. (Thanks, Avon!!)

And Avon, I have decided that we all need -- Cleopatra, Queen of Denial’s dictionary of denial for writers!!! (Of course, we all know that sometimes a criticism is deserved, but here are some of the denials I have decided on for when I am under the couch)

Undistinguished Writing – this means the author expected you to work for it, and didn’t hand it over in a predigested form.

Weak Plot or Ending – I would have done it differently, so you are wrong.

Fragment; Too short to Judge – Hey! This Haiku only has three lines!!!


Anyway, great heaps of congratulations on Forgotten Memories. It moves me to tears every time I read it.

 

Lasi, Thanks for sharing your verse with us. It is so amazing to me to see the different directions this poem has taken people in. I know the Paths are a very powerful image for you.

Thanks so much, Tay. And yes, indeed it is a powerful image for me.

Your first two lines seemed to me that they could be from our courageous Gimli there, telling himself to go on!!!

You know, I had not thought of it that way, but now that you mention it, you're right. I guess I've just got Gimli on the brain! I do love that Dwarf so...

If I were going to second guess myself at this stage, I might consider moving that verse further down. But, as I said, this poem, in my own head, is so done.

Oh, I agree! I wouldn't touch that poem if I were you. I just wrote that as a little thank you to you for writing it. It's touched a lot of people already, and it's less than a month old! That must feel amazing! I'm just very happy for you is all.

Well, I'm going to actually write something down in my own story now! heh, heh. Hope to talk to you soon. BTW, I sent you an e-mail. I think it was Saturday or Sunday. I've had a few e-mail glitches lately, and I just wanted to make sure you got it. Let me know!

Lasi

 

After encouraging you guys to try the measured steps of the interlocked verse, I just let this pour out of me without any concern for anything (well, not quite true – meter and “mouth-sound,” my two big loves)

Tay, this is just a quick note to tell you that I want to discuss this further, but I think that Verse and Adversity would be the best forum.

The last couple of days I've been listening to my favorite modern day troubadour, Gordon Lightfoot as well as Sons of Somerled by Steve McDonald, and in cruising through this thread again (hoping perhaps that there was still some current in the Electronic Anduin that might jump start my muse) I read the highlighted comment you made re: Home By Morning.

I'll move this over to the other forum.

~Nessime

 

I hope it is alright to share this- Home By Morning received a banner this morning- it is short-listed for the Mithril awards.

 

That's wonderful news! Tay, I'm so pleased and happy for you right now because you know how I feel about this poem/song.

(((hugs)))

~Nessime

 

I hope it is alright to share this- Home By Morning received this in today's email:

Way to go powzie!! That's brilliant!

 

Congratulations, Tay!

 

Yay, Tay! I hadn't read this lovely poem until today, and it richly deserves recognition. It is like an incantation -- it weaves a spell as you read it. Really transported me to another place and time. I especially loved "No winter's breath, no fear, no death/Can keep my heart from coming home." Beautiful.

flick

 

Oh, Tay, Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!

Starlight

 

Thanks to you all. It was a lovely moment, and drew an audible "woohoo," even though I suspect my husband nominated me. In the long run, it actually makes me feel more insecure than ever.

We are certainly well represented out there!! I will be dropping congratulations in forums for days!!

 

That's great Tay! Congratulations!

 

That's absolutely fabulous, Tay - and very well deserved.

Avon

 

Congrats, Tay!

 

even though I suspect my husband nominated me.

Wellll... if I understand it correctly, you'd have had to have been nominated by more than just your husband to be shortlisted - unless the poetry nominations were appallingly few (which I doubt, given the amount of gorgeous poetry out there). So the shortlisted status and that "woohoo" are both well deserved, and as for insecurity, I guess I wonder how come? Your writing is so beautiful, and has moved so many people, inspired stories, been drawn into other people's works.... I understand that insecurities often have little or nothing to do with objective truth, but - well, I'm pre-coffee, so I'm not sure how to say what I mean, but maybe you understand anyway.

In short, I dig your work.

 

Thanks to you all - your words come at a good time.

I understand that insecurities often have little or nothing to do with objective truth

I’m not sure this forum is the place to address it- I just seem to be incredibly bi-polar about my writing. (better than in life, though, if I had to make a choice) I haven’t been writing long enough to know if I will, at my age, outgrow the feeling or if it is hard-wired in.

I don’t just mean the “negative muse” concept that Nessime shared with me (Have you met my friend “Hack”) – I think most writers have doubts about a place in a story, or sometimes hate to see one end because they don’t know where the next one will come from. And I understand the idea that if you have some bad reviews or comments, that might set you back. But that seldom happens to me. My brain is different – I can’t look at the strong.

My moment of excitement came when I heard I was on the list. Recognition and excitement – never hurts, right? Until the list itself came out. I take one look and I think: where can I hide? I should not be in this place.

Partly it’s just being in the open. Leftover parochial school trauma, perhaps. It seems to be related to how I cannot read someone else’s work when I am trying to get an idea down.

Anyway, I would laugh and move on, but the truth is I had a list of things I was working on and I can’t touch anything. I have not written a word since the darn things were announced. I don’t feel capable.

Hopefully, if my regular writing mood swing is any indication, I will just hide under the table for awhile and come out again when it gets dark and I can slip back under the radar.

The personal truth is, of the verse I have shown here I think Ascension is the strongest work. Maybe that's because I had to put myself in such a different place to do it, and I found that I could.

But you don't fall in love because of reason or logic - my heart belongs to HOME, and it was a thrill to know it was the piece that was recognized. I thank you, and my ranger thanks you, too.

And sooner or later, I'll have to come back out and write about that thrice damned hamster.

 

nd I think: where can I hide? I should not be in this place.

Oh god, I so sympathize! And y'know, even leaving aside the undeniably and exceptionally high quality of all the works (yours included!), to see my little stories competing with works that are among my personal favorite writing - stories that I've begged everyone I know, LOTR fans or not, to read because they're just that good, well, I hardly know which way to turn. And there's scarcely a chance I'll be able to vote in the Voter's Choice awards, not because I have any particular feelings about voting for or against myself, but because I canNOT choose! There's just too much good stuff there, and to vote for one breaks my heart about the ones I'm not getting to vote for! So, I understand. I'll be of two minds about it if I win, because of the works I'm up against that I think are so clearly superior.

But you should be there. I know it doesn't feel like that, but you should. You know how I feel about your writing, so I won't reiterate, but I'll say that I frequently get Home By Morning stuck in my head like a song (I actually woke up once with it running through my head), and I'm glad to have it there.

 

And sooner or later, I'll have to come back out and write about that thrice damned hamster.

You know I'm expecting a sonnet on that hamster

 

I’m not sure this forum is the place to address it- I just seem to be incredibly bi-polar about my writing. (better than in life, though, if I had to make a choice) I haven’t been writing long enough to know if I will, at my age, outgrow the feeling or if it is hard-wired in.

I don’t just mean the “negative muse” concept that Nessime shared with me (Have you met my friend “Hack”) – I think most writers have doubts about a place in a story, or sometimes hate to see one end because they don’t know where the next one will come from. And I understand the idea that if you have some bad reviews or comments, that might set you back. But that seldom happens to me. My brain is different – I can’t look at the strong.

I think I understand where you are coming from, it seems similar to some insecurities I have. I don't know if I can explain it without sounding like a complete dweeb... nah, I can't. Just that (if I am reading your post correctly) I also go through periods of absolute loathing for my work and can be paralysed in writer's block by reading any of the really good stuff.

That probably didn't help at all, sorry ;-0

Avon

 

I appreciate the patience you all show me – more sympathy than I have for myself, that’s for sure. Get On With It! I say – but it doesn’t sound so convincing from under the sofa.

Anyway, I am pleased about HOME (however that makes the nuns who taught me to avoid pride feel) But I am most proud of all to know that it has already won the Avon-Starlight-Nessime-Shadow award by leaving home and joining its life to other stories. Nothing could have made it more real to me.

It was serendipitous that Shadow posted the new chapter of An End To Innocence –using Home and All Of Them- just when I needed to see them breathe. And to remind me of all the people who connected to this poem, and to the magic of our river. So, though I am still not writing tonight, I have been reading all through the messages here, and the places where the electronic Anduin swept me.

“I am mighty Anduin,” she says. “If I can move the dome of Osgiliath to get the raven and blade back together, what good do you think that couch is going to do you? I have stories waiting to be told, damn it – and besides, not one of us believes you can stay away from your blackbird for more than few days. So suck it up.”

Yes, m’am.

Thanks to you all.

I frequently get Home By Morning stuck in my head like a song (I actually woke up once with it running through my head)

as someone who so frequently gets possessed by music, this touched me more than I can say


And Alawa - long before Denethor got himself a hamster that required it’s own poetry, my little butterbean, Ginger, was writing hamster Haiku – you can even see them on her website I promise a sonnet – but I think Gilly may need to be made into a morality play.

 

So, though I am still not writing tonight, I have been reading all through the messages here, and the places where the electronic Anduin swept me.

Sometimes that's just as important and needful as writing. It just reminds you of the reasons why you write, and what you enjoy so much about it! As I know that HOME is such a personal piece for you, and since I am tremendously glad that it made the list, I would just like to say that I think it was chosen not only for the technical aspects of the poem's construction, but also because it carries a message too powerful to deny (and we're all proofs of it! ) There is something to that piece that touches the heart and makes reading it with your story in mind a magical moment.

So Tay, Rachel, and all of you nominees, I hope you enjoy this moment: although I know it's scary, and sometimes you may feel as though your work doesn't belong, It belongs! Those stories have touched us all, and just your sharing of such treasures makes you winners (I should say it makes us all winners! What kind of competition lets everyone enjoy the prize, which is the story itself?) I know I say this all the time, but I would like to thank you all for sharing your stories with the rest of us. Writing is an act of bravery, and you are all very brave!

Tay, you are mighty Anduin... And, we would not want you to stay away from that blackbird for too long...

Well done!
Starlight

 

see, there it is, linguistically! I like the word award when it came as a surprise ... not so much the word competition.

Writing is an act of bravery, and you are all very brave!
... you are mighty Anduin...

I am still the kid who, when the adults praise your party piece and encourage you to sing for the company - bursts into tears and runs out of the room. At least I did not pull my dress up over my head first!!

I think it has to do with the sense of being observed. I can be typing like mad on a piece I am desperately anxious to show Jim and Chris for ideas and beta - but if they stand where they can see the screen, I have to cover the document up. Can't show it til I am ready, can't do it while I am there; must leave it abandoned in a basket and slip away.

Hard to believe I am a Leo!

Starlight, North waves shyly and says hi.

(ok, I am off to think about Chica Chubb-Baggins... who sounds to me like she needs a rhumba, not a poem.)

 

Starlight, North waves shyly and says hi.

I must wave back!


(ok, I am off to think about Chica Chubb-Baggins... who sounds to me like she needs a rhumba, not a poem.)

Oh, please, do! I wrote my little triolet about Lobelia (hoping to encourage you) I can e-mail it to you, if you wish to take a look (it's actually no good at all, but for the sake of reading Chica's rhumba, I'm willing to risk it! )

Starlight
*chanting a little tune to the words of Chica Chica Conga*

 

And Alawa - long before Denethor got himself a hamster that required it’s own poetry, my little butterbean, Ginger, was writing hamster Haiku – you can even see them on her website I promise a sonnet – but I think Gilly may need to be made into a morality play.

Oh those haiku are splendid! Loved the pictures too

 

Just saw the Mithril awards list -- many congrats on the runner-up nod for "Home" -- it's such a lovely piece of work. Yay!

flick

 

Congratulations, Tay! I'm very happy for you

Starlight

 

Thanks so much to everyone for their support and well wishes.

When I came here in April, I never could even have dreamed of this!!

I am very very touched and happy to have been acknowledged in such an outstanding company - and I am moved beyond words of thanks to you guys who have been encouraging me from the moment Denethor decided he needed a villanelle. Once was miracle enough - now I find I am coming to think of myslef as someone who writes!!

 

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