Musings on Mirkwood
Posted: Wed Mar 27, 2019 7:20 pm
I am no bard nor skald of great renown, nor have I tried my hand at verse for many winters. But I hope this will amuse, even in its unfinished state. I will most likely add to it as I get inspired.
Beneath green boughs do I dwell
Where the forest buds do swell
A cup of good, sweet tasting wine
The gift of sun, and rain, and vine
The mighty river's roaring call
Carrying away the leaves that fall
My bow of horn lays by my side
It proves my ever beaming pride
Axe and knife and arrows free
With which to defend Oromë's vast country
Beneath green boughs do I dwell
Where the forest buds do swell
A cup of good, sweet tasting wine
The gift of sun, and rain, and vine
The mighty river's roaring call
Carrying away the leaves that fall
My bow of horn lays by my side
It proves my ever beaming pride
Axe and knife and arrows free
With which to defend Oromë's vast country