Found Poetry by larissa

The Dead Marshes

Sullen waters in the mists
dreary and wearisome
curling, twisting fog
dry reeds hiss and rattle, windless
deep silence
pale faces in the water
all rotting, all dead
great battle long ago
dead ones and little candles
shadow of horror
deep silence

A long-expected party

Thursday, September 22:
A party of special magnificence.
Tents began to go up,
lanterns were hung,
invitations began pouring out.
The fireworks were all superb:
scinitillating birds, green trees of smoke...
One last surprise startled the Hobbits,
a red-golden dragon, terribly lifelike
burst over Bywater with a deafening explosion.
After came the Speech.
He stepped down and vanished.
There was a dead silence...
Silent, Frodo stepped out of the pavillion...
- larissa