Rhonda/ Meneloth

Write me a poem, write me something of Elves -
Elves of grace, unfighting; The graceful Elves of
Rivendell & Lorien, write me something about them.
You see with different eyes than most;
There is value in the music of your words,
The artwork that is a poem.
It has worth, yes, a value of its own.
Write me a poem about


See how the waves lift their arms to the sun
Pale gold and green, soft grey and pearl.

Your eyes, beloved,
Once met mine, under leaves -
Your hand strayed over sweet silver bark,
Smooth-shining and silken with life's blood...

The waves fall forward folding in upon themselves,
Tumbling in grey and taupe and crystal,
Ever-reaching their white hands for the shore.
Your pale hands
Were ever-reaching, for the stars.
Your eyes were golden-green, soft grey and crystal.
I remember,
I remember.
The curve of your arms, lifted up as wings,
Sea wind streaming its fingers through your hair,
The blood-golden light of the day's ending;
How it gilded and shadowed with a glory.

Your heart was ever seaward, beloved.
Ever seaward
And the cry of the seabird was our knell.

Look back, my cherished one,
Return to me,
Return once more to silvered waters,
To the swan-waters that lay still, glass under the moon.
You looked upon them,
Both smiles and tears traced in moonlight.

Return to me, that once more I may hear
Your voice
Among the stars of gold,
Among the leaves of green.

The silver of the stars was netted among the trees,
Upon the waters, reflected branches;
I remember them reflected in your eyes.

The waters lift up, bow and break once more.
Shores of memories; our love is thus broken -
A thousand crystalline shards, falling without substance,

The sun sets into the West,
And my eyes dim.

Beyond the sea,
Are there any mallorn trees?
For I have never heard them mentioned,
And cannot leave
This wood,

You are ever


Sea waters,
And yet unchanged,
This mortal earth fades around
My soul, a long, slow decay of creation;
I would be free of this gentle death,
I would seek my peace upon the
Clean and shifting, bright
Sweet-shining all

Are blessed,
To escape this earth,
To live out their brief lives
Never seeing the death of their work.
Released from this world they lift away
Leaving their loves, their legacies;
To the creator who made them,
To rejoin him beyond the
Circle of this dying

Me in upon
Your bosom, o Sea,
In every swell and fall
To cleanse from my soul
The feel of the dry dust beneath,
The ashen, crumbling remains of love.
Take me in, that I may find that
Peace of the waves in my
Eternity, a rythmic
Peace in living
Upon the

Starlit Scars

Be careful, when you go out,
Into the night.
Take great care...

The stars;

They may turn their eyes upon you,
And blaze down upon your

Close your eyes, hide them.
Their beauty, it cuts like a knife;
I should know.

A clarity, a bright piercing of the soul;
You will not soon forget.
You will never truly heal.

Do not deal lightly with the stars,
Dear one.
I know.
I bear bright scars;
I will never be free of their light.
Turn your eyes back to the safe places,
The places under the earth.
Hide your heart and your treasure deep.
Do not let your eyes be filled with

This Muted Joy
(for Meneloth, who plays and sings)

The Hall is lit with warmth and gold
The gems are lit with flame,
What muted joy this woven peace,
All gathered in one name.
Around us lift the voices sweet,
Around us thrum the songs
That we have sung and we have kept
In hearts, our spirits long.
The harpists fingers move and play,
Notes crystalline and pure -
Her skirts, soft pool'd around the harp
Sea-green twixt fire's verdure;
The copper-maiden, bronze and green,
Gold-haired with eyes of sea,
Your notes are true unto your heart,
And may they ever be.

- Primula