Miscellaneous Mithlond Bits
Mithlond (an acrostic) - Primula
Journey's End - Onomir (Laivindur)
Grey - Primula
Merry Mithlond (an alliterative) - Primula
Mithlond (2 cinquains) - Isilme
Mithlond (acrostic) - Isilme
Many grey ships
In the silver-rimmed bay,
To bring to them
Help and healing -
Lifting them up
Over the waters,
Never to return;
Dreams of the West fulfilled.
The steady rain slackened a wee bit as Frodo clung to Gandalfs cloak.
They watched the shore fade away into the gray curtains of mist and
only the outline of the coast remained.
"Fear not Frodo, they will recover from this parting as they always
"It is not for them that I weep Gandalf, but for myself. I leave my
home and all I've known up till now. What lies ahead? I fear it
Gandalf, I fear it."
"Change is good for the soul Frodo. And besides, you are not alone.
I shall always remain with you and I dare say that you will see a
change for the better within yourself in no time. Fear not my friend."
Frodo and Gandalf turned to face the open sea and as they did the sun
shone the brighter and the clouds wisped away.
"Thank you Gandalf. I feel better now. Almost free as a butterfly
on a summer breeze. Thank you for sharing your journeys with me. Thank
you for everything."
Gandalf put his large hand on Frodo's shoulder and hugged the Hobbit.
"No my friend thank you and you will see that you have many friends
awaiting you, my dear Hobbit."
- Onomir (Onono Laivindur)
Over the sea he came for me,
Long years ago one of the three
He hid away to strengthen hearts,
By wisdom more than magic arts.
Now by the sea he waits for me,
To come with him upon the waves,
A way to a home I've never seen,
That hearts may be as once they've been.
Merry Mithlond! Most mnemonics meant for Mithlond moan of melancholy
and moping. Missing merry, mirthful Mithlond most merely mumble
amid a morass of marshmallowy, mucky, muggy moods. Morosely
miserable mournfulness might master many millenia of minutes, memorials
to mobs of magical mages and mannerly musical models, but merriness is
more moving. Mithlond, many manned mariners migrate, moving
moreover to mansions immutable - may melodies mingle mainly in mirth, o
Lord Cirdan’s home.
Ships ever sailing west,
precious cargo now homeward bound,
mist and darkness,
white ships gracefully sails.
Never to return to home port,
orning light shimmers,
n iridescent pools.
hin waves rap gently,
auntingly, against pier.
arks float overhead,
n westerly breeze.
o sound breaks the calm,
ock now bare, evermore.