Precarious Piano Player

Precarious Piano Player

Precarious piano player,
playing her piano
on the edge of a cliff,
her spine straight and stiff.
Wonder how she got there.
She does not seem to care,
with her head in the clouds,
ocean wind in her hair.
Alarmed enough to laugh,
I saw her in a photograph.
Perhaps the scene was staged,
I thought, as water
sluiced through the plug hole
in the bath.

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Song For Luthien Tinuviel

                                 Song For Luthien Tinuviel

( Lines inspired by the tale of Beren and Luthien in The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien.  Poem published in Mallorn, the Journal of the Tolkien Society, Issue 55, Winter 2014.)

Feanor he made the Silmarils,
revealed his power and his skills,
precious jewels of the Elven kind,
majesty moulded from his mind.

Elf maid, Luthien Tinuviel,
danced, held aloft a Silmaril.
I saw her laughing through the trees,
her white dress blowing in the breeze.

Entranced, I was lying on the grass,
saw Elven folk through a shining glass.
I saw Elves the lays of old had sung,
tall Elves from when the world was young.

Feanor, his blue stone tower tall,
faraway, saw behind a wall.
Felt I was poor in my heart and soul,
I was a fish, left by the shoal.

Felt I was young, knowing I was old,
I was a sheep, strayed far from fold.
On my quest over wild moor and fen,
I was lost and was lost again.

Unlooked for beauty came to my eye,
elf maid dancing beneath the sky,
fair elf the lays of old had sung,
fair elf from when the world was young.

Luthien Tinuviel held aloft a Silmaril.

The Long Return

The Long Return

All the lines are drawn,
all the stones are raised.
In the tones of dawn,
all the gods are praised.

All that we have known,
all the things we made,
all that we have shown,
we shared in fair trade.

Now we journey home
on our long return.

All the signs are clear,
all the lights are bright,
over stars we steer,
attain lanes for flight.

Farewell to your land,
farewell to your shore,
farewell to your sand,
now forevermore.

Now we journey home
on our long return.

All our path is pruned,
all our craft prepared,
all our tones are tuned,
follow our star bird.

Thought it would be good,
thought it could be fine,
things were as they should
when the stars were mine.

Now we journey home
on our long return.

More yet still to find,
more yet will we learn.
Meetings kind to kind
on the long return.

Farewell to this isle
on the ocean bed.
Let us wait awhile,
think of things we said.

Now we journey home
on our long return.