Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
underneath the stars
by the ocean on the sand
I will build a fire
then at midnight I will smile
and raise my glass in a toast
wishing a happy new year
to one and to all
Choka
~~~°°♡°°~~~

before a golden
bowl she stands
crystal sceptre
in her hands
~
exquisite form
bone china face
possessed of
perfect poise
and grace
~
hair so fine
lustrous, rich
like cornsilk platinum
to bewitch
~
eyes of wisdom
seas untold
revealing naught
but deepest
SOUL
~
encrusted sheath
shows hips that flare
diaphemous sleeves
lift with the air
~
oval jaw
cheekbones strong
her lips move
in elvish song
~
what does she know
that lights her eyes
violet
profoundly
wise
~
but sadness fills her
as she sings
she can't possess
The one
great
RING
~
mistress of
the wooded lands
monarch
noble
ethereal
GRAND
~
before a bowl
she casts her spell
immortal
queen

GALADRIEL


~~~°°♡°°~~~


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/30/2015
all rights protected
~~~°°♡°°~~~

as a child i was fascinated by
JRR Tolkien
especially with the elves

GALADRIEL
was one of my favorite characters
beautiful beyond compare
wisdom profound as oceans
and
TERRIBLE IN POWER

i wanted to be like her
but in my humanity
could not

yet i
DEAMED
 Dec 2015 Joe Cole
martin
I've been sifting through
the scrawls and scribbles
written on some whim

passed by, not followed up
like lights that shine too dim

anyone can write a poem
it seems innate somehow
anyone can write a poem
except for me right now
you just did x
thank you Sonja, guess so :)
 Dec 2015 Joe Cole
Sjr1000
To
the poets
among us
I
do
bequeath for
us
the lines
that
bring
us
elegant
truth.
It has been said we can bequeath not only property but values as well.
Merry Christmas, the voice greets me
humbug I mutter under breath
greed hatred jealousy
only things you live with.

Keep to yourself your mirth
I sullenly brood
such lies are too heavy for this earth
done this place no good.

Relations under cloud of doubt
each soul bears a grievous injury
merriment had long gone out
the greet is just empty.

It's a pity you still find it merry
with all the injustice inequity
men classified quartered
children for food bartered.

Merry doesn't the word stink
while some choose what to drink
fuss about the flavor to savor
many reach it by miles' labor.

Merry can't hide away the glum
of human habitats in dingy slums
strewn on pavements under open sky
breathing refuses left to die.

Still, Merry Christmas to you, says the voice
the time is to give and rejoice
the world though truly is what you say
haven’t You, I, We, made it that way?
a repost
Next page