Disclaimer; Nothing of Tolkiens is mine, I could bever hope to be that good.
A/N: As always reviews are apprecieted.
This is a poem about Faramir feeling the first stirrings of love in the Houses of Healing.
There is wisdom in her eyes
Within the haunted gaze there lies;
The knowledge of a thousand fights,
Of endless battles through the nights.
Her slender hands know well the feel
of rounded shields and sharpened steel.
And when she dreams, and dreams she does.
Her frightened memory shows what was.
What horrors sought to dim her soul.
And these fearful nights, they take their toll.
Upon her shadow comes again.
Still, desperately she strains.
To hide these fears behind a mask.
And smile and laugh at those who ask.
Are you well, you look so pale?
But still none see beneath the veil.
That she uses to hide the despair.
That makes her laugh a sound so rare.
A precious thing to see her smile.
So small a thing that does beguile.
My beating heart stills, and every thought;
Marvels at the changes within me wrought
By her gentle, woeful glance.
Which only serves to enhance.
Her glory and her loveliness.
For I would live a life of bliss.
If I could hold her in my arms.
And be the the blessed man that calms;
Her fears and gives her all my love
To worship her beyond, above;
The very stars that shine so bright.
That burn like flames throughout the night.
All this and more to her I'l give.
For now and as long as we shall live.
My love is her hers forevermore
And now to her I do implore
To let me try to prove I am worthy
To let me show how much I love thee.