Farewell
By Anonymist
Disclaimer: I do not own Middle Earth (yet), so the elves and Mirkwood do not belong to me. The poem, however, is mine.
A/N: I dislike the title of this piece. If you have any ideas for a new name, I would love to hear it!
Farewell
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I'm strange in this familiar place,
My feet, they wander slow
And like the wind, I leave no trace
To show where I might go.
Through weary wars and valleys deep,
I strayed with many a care;
The whispering wave that cannot sleep,
To the West, it beckons fair.
-
They call, for here the sun has set,
And gone is evermore!
Beneath the wind I hear them yet:
The waves that stroke the shore.
-
My lady's gown is green in spring,
as boughs their leaves unfold
And round her throat the snowdrops ring,
With crocuses of gold.
Her arms, the oak and cedar strong!
Yet pale and slim as beech;
The stream's enchanted flow her song,
The evening wind her speech.
-
But far away I hear the gulls,
They sing a wilder air
Of cedar sweet in gracefull hulls,
of blessed cities fair!
-
Her hair is darkness over the trees,
and tangled in the stars;
The elven songs her twilight ease,
and time will heal her scars.
But not for me the rest of shade
Beneath the greenwood tree,
For me, the parting bittersweet;
As waves that cross the sea.
-
The sea, the sea! I hear it now,
It dances on the sands;
The current tugging at the prow,
A path to deathless lands!
-
I walk here now, in her embrace,
and wonder, till the dawn
But all the while find not a trace
Of where I might have gone.
The ocean draws me like the tide,
Alas, I leave thy shore,
But ever in my memory bide;
Be blessed evermore.