Jan-u-wine's poem: "The Dreme of Elanor the Fair"
Two weeks ago, I posted a few pictures showing how we were snowed-in during our “spring” holiday in Normandy (link).
jan_u_wine commented on that post and we had the following discussion:
Jan_u_wine: wow.....sorry it was snowy....but....it is beautiful!
Ambree: "....but....it is beautiful"
It certainly was very beautiful. I have never before experienced the combination of sea and snow. So, I was glad it happened.
Jan_u_wine: there should be a poem written about that: the combination of sea and snow......
Ambree: Hope you'll give it a try!
Tolkien gave us Mount Ever-white (Taniquetil) as inspiration.
I’m so happy that she DID give it a try! And, of course, we are taken into Tolkien’s world.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The Dreme of Elanor the Fair
'Twas he who named me Elanor,
he who called me after the
golden star-flower.
Upon the other side of the Sea
he dwells now,
upon the isle where the Straight Road
finds its ending.
There, also,
Da has gone,
the ship departed long since
from the grey harbour,
night-shadows glimmering
bronze and green and crystal
upon the swan-prow.
And here, yet, I stay,
as close as ever I may come
to them,
here,
within sight of the great Sea,
the sounds and smell of it
moving in my dremes.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The tea has grown cold within
the plain comfort of its pot
as I drift
within the gilt-box
of my fancies.
The sky is grey-laced,
the Sea-face racing
with caps of white.
As if I were upon the spire
of Elostirion,
I see
(in dreme or fact,
I know not),
a great mountain,
white and pure as stars
with snow.
Below it,
equal in might,
the blue Sea,
waves pulling
at the shore-breast,
pale as cream
beneath an
unexpected burden
of that same wondrous
lace.
How came snow upon this Sea-shore?
I cannot know.
Even within the flight
of my dreme,
I am sad
with the not-knowing,
broken
with the the understanding
that this great mountain,
this Sea,
even this simple snow
may look upon
my lost beloveds
and be, in turn,
looked upon.
Never,
in all the turnings of
this world,
in all the snows and seas
and mountains,
never in all the skys or rivers
or bits of sand and shore
or rich, dark earth,
may I.
My dreme wakes me now.
A solitary star shines yet
within the bowl of the sky:
Earendil.
He is sailing his jeweled
barque to where they are.
Greet them, my Lord.
Greet them for me.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Thank you, Jan, for this wonderful poem. I’m so glad you agreed to have it posted here.Once I had read it, I immediately thought of this picture.
That tiny, solitary figure, walking along the shore, with the sea, the snow clad hills and the immense sky, not only above but also under feet. Who is it? Frodo? .....Perhaps.....
jan_u_wine commented on that post and we had the following discussion:
Jan_u_wine: wow.....sorry it was snowy....but....it is beautiful!
Ambree: "....but....it is beautiful"
It certainly was very beautiful. I have never before experienced the combination of sea and snow. So, I was glad it happened.
Jan_u_wine: there should be a poem written about that: the combination of sea and snow......
Ambree: Hope you'll give it a try!
Tolkien gave us Mount Ever-white (Taniquetil) as inspiration.
I’m so happy that she DID give it a try! And, of course, we are taken into Tolkien’s world.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The Dreme of Elanor the Fair
'Twas he who named me Elanor,
he who called me after the
golden star-flower.
Upon the other side of the Sea
he dwells now,
upon the isle where the Straight Road
finds its ending.
There, also,
Da has gone,
the ship departed long since
from the grey harbour,
night-shadows glimmering
bronze and green and crystal
upon the swan-prow.
And here, yet, I stay,
as close as ever I may come
to them,
here,
within sight of the great Sea,
the sounds and smell of it
moving in my dremes.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The tea has grown cold within
the plain comfort of its pot
as I drift
within the gilt-box
of my fancies.
The sky is grey-laced,
the Sea-face racing
with caps of white.
As if I were upon the spire
of Elostirion,
I see
(in dreme or fact,
I know not),
a great mountain,
white and pure as stars
with snow.
Below it,
equal in might,
the blue Sea,
waves pulling
at the shore-breast,
pale as cream
beneath an
unexpected burden
of that same wondrous
lace.
How came snow upon this Sea-shore?
I cannot know.
Even within the flight
of my dreme,
I am sad
with the not-knowing,
broken
with the the understanding
that this great mountain,
this Sea,
even this simple snow
may look upon
my lost beloveds
and be, in turn,
looked upon.
Never,
in all the turnings of
this world,
in all the snows and seas
and mountains,
never in all the skys or rivers
or bits of sand and shore
or rich, dark earth,
may I.
My dreme wakes me now.
A solitary star shines yet
within the bowl of the sky:
Earendil.
He is sailing his jeweled
barque to where they are.
Greet them, my Lord.
Greet them for me.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Thank you, Jan, for this wonderful poem. I’m so glad you agreed to have it posted here.Once I had read it, I immediately thought of this picture.
That tiny, solitary figure, walking along the shore, with the sea, the snow clad hills and the immense sky, not only above but also under feet. Who is it? Frodo? .....Perhaps.....