A simple poem I wrote a while back for a writing course.
Lament for Urwen
Her hair was like that of golden flax
Her eyes, blue-faceted gems
Her laugh was akin to the babbling brook
And whither she went, she danced.
She was a child, a cherub, or a nymph some said
Unbound by this mortal coil
And yet she was not, for Death himself came
And doused her sprightly candle.
His long twining fingers ensnared her soul
And her gardens turned gray and sere
Her hair became long spider-threads
And her eyes like black-shelled beetles.
No more does her laugh echo in the wood
Nor does she dance in the meadow
A new home she has, on the riverbank
In a silent tomb of marble.