Poetry with Parm

Writing is a passion many people experience after reading Tolkien's works. Come here to discuss and share your experiences with writing.

Postby Rholarowyn » Thu Mar 22, 2012 10:48 am

Parm,

Thank you for the poem you posted in our story thread. It is now placed in my sig area.

I appreciate knowing that you our one of our fans reading along with us in the journey, Once There Were Words.

:-)
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So True the Arrow, So Steady the Hand

No word in your quiver goes errant,
no thought from your bow is misspent,
no image falls short of your target,
so true are the arrows thus sent.
Your heart with a steady compunction
pulls the bowstrings few others could ply,
your story does more than just function--
your steady hand helps my heart fly!

Thank you Parm for your wonderful poem. :heart:

Sharing another adventure with Eari in the Scriptorium: Once There Were Words
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Postby prmiller » Sat Apr 14, 2012 9:08 pm

Rho,

I am glad to join your journey,
and with you, there is no tourney,
for your skills to weave a tale,
like the humble nightingale,
have such art, and joyous skill,
just a snatch of it shall thrill.

Yes, most glad am I to see,
your prosaic poetry.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Postby jilbo_baggins_revisited » Fri Sep 07, 2012 3:45 pm

There are no words amidst the joy of endless plight that I enjoy to see my mentor shining bright...Despite my years of timeless flight...

For as a nightingale, I flew. Far away. Above the blue.

I feared my words would steer me wrong.
I feared the worse. I feared my song.

I feared my voice, my shadow too...and yet I landed here, it's true.

Flying free for all to see, precious words caressing me.
I landed here, but for a time...And still, I never reasoned why.

For here is where I felt the light. A safety net to ease my plight. The winged voice of poetry, that wrapped me up...embracing me.

My fear was gone when he would sing. The scribe of constant light would bring...
A peace that I had never known, a light inside I'd never shown.

Assuring me, my voice was real, there was no shame in what I feel.

Inspiring me to soar the skies and find my way and wipe my eyes.

No, there is none that can compare...

The cherished words that he inspires, to write of all my hearts desires.

I thank him now with all my heart.

For Parm :)
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Postby prmiller » Sun Oct 14, 2012 2:24 pm

jilbo_baggins_revisited wrote:There are no words amidst the joy of endless plight that I enjoy to see my mentor shining bright...Despite my years of timeless flight...

For as a nightingale, I flew. Far away. Above the blue.

I feared my words would steer me wrong.
I feared the worse. I feared my song.

I feared my voice, my shadow too...and yet I landed here, it's true.

Flying free for all to see, precious words caressing me.
I landed here, but for a time...And still, I never reasoned why.

For here is where I felt the light. A safety net to ease my plight. The winged voice of poetry, that wrapped me up...embracing me.

My fear was gone when he would sing. The scribe of constant light would bring...
A peace that I had never known, a light inside I'd never shown.

Assuring me, my voice was real, there was no shame in what I feel.

Inspiring me to soar the skies and find my way and wipe my eyes.

No, there is none that can compare...

The cherished words that he inspires, to write of all my hearts desires.

I thank him now with all my heart.

For Parm :)


Unintended Silence
The sacrifices few may see,
those vigils kept from dusk to dawn,
the unintended silences,
that make life hard to journey on;
Oh little pilgrim, for your gift,
I am most touched by all you say,
how kind, how kind, how truly kind,
you spend your time to give this way.
May you discover in your craft,
an outlet for a grief-pierced heart,
to cry your sorrows into rhyme,
lament regrets with lyric art,
and write, instead, encouragements
to others who, more hurt than you,
are desperate to find a friend,
discover strength in simply two.
My gratitude that you have found
enjoyment in my humble fare,
that these brief words are able to
infuse enrichment in your air.
My you walk well from day to day;
write often, bravely, and in time,
your voice will gain such confidence,
you need not fear to speak in rhyme.

Blessings,
Parm :)
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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby prmiller » Thu Oct 18, 2012 10:19 pm

The FarAway Call

The haunting cries of trains
perhaps carrying souls away
to the land where river gods
are washed in huge vats with scented salts
and enchantments keep us from find them
all the rattle, clang, and shriek,
has all be stilled
for an ocean and mountain ranges separate us
still
I heard the engine's keening cry
heard echoes from long links
of iron and steel
rumble rumble rumble
along faraway tracks
carrying promises of wealth
done deals on wheels
boxcars emptied of dreams
flatbeds weighed down by
heavy expectations.
There is that faraway call
that connects me here
to all the whistles and shrill commands
over there
from nostalgic Asian peculiarities
to forgotten Canadian traditions;
from sayonara
to All Aboard!
Faraway
so
faraway...

Blessings,
Parm :)
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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby A_Simple_Poet » Sat Nov 24, 2012 7:59 am

I don't go in much for poetry myself anymore these days though I would never dream of diminishing its necessary impact on the world and on prose craft. But here's the last one I wrote before I became A Retired Poet and just Will.


Men of a Certain Age

Twilight unfolds without a number … or biological clock
Dusk heralded with the garden growth of wayward weeds

Or warts on the nose
The ever-sagging earlobes

Grass withers silver on the mottled pate
Creaking not confined to

Hardwood floors and hinges
Cartilage in flames like Carthage

But, the greatest tragedy dwells
In memory and expectation

When the two are mingled and
Mistaken for Godot

The long goodbye and the fickle gat seem truer than your wife
And better company then any imagined mistress
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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby prmiller » Sun Dec 30, 2012 12:19 am

A_Simple_Poet wrote:

Men of a Certain Age

Twilight unfolds without a number … or biological clock
Dusk heralded with the garden growth of wayward weeds

Or warts on the nose
The ever-sagging earlobes

Grass withers silver on the mottled pate
Creaking not confined to

Hardwood floors and hinges
Cartilage in flames like Carthage

But, the greatest tragedy dwells
In memory and expectation

When the two are mingled and
Mistaken for Godot

The long goodbye and the fickle gat seem truer than your wife
And better company then any imagined mistress



Conversation
Everyone I knew called him Mr. B
when his name tag clearly read George
never called that
he carried the gravitas of the Mr.
like a professor emeritus
he was old
to me
eyes bright magnified by 3X lenses
hair white like Sirius
hands lanky strong
gait purposeful
George knew books
probably why the chain kept him on
probably why I felt good to be in
that
bookstore with aisles of daunting titles
pounded out by legions of one-book-a-year authors
George strode down the rows with confident power
walked between rows with covers that squared off each other
like professional boxers ready to pummel any amateur mind
till he came to me
tilted his head gently
eyes narrowed slightly
You need Homer
Plain, matter-of-fact, observation
You have a reader's face
he told me
Start with Homer
From there
you will know where to go next
Homer
Mr. B moved away
like a coach in a boxing gym
undaunted by the mental muscularity he might find
a word
a suggestion
a conversation
he must have been something
in his day
Hooray for the joys of June!

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The Silence of Saturday

Postby prmiller » Sat Mar 30, 2013 3:40 pm

Between the tears of Friday's pains
and Sunday's well-known joyful songs,
I sit in silence, Saturday,
away from active, noisy throngs.
This week, which started rich with praise,
the palm-strewn streets, with robes and coats,
devolving into bitter crowds,
with curses hurled from well-paid throats,
upends all civil notions held
that this One Man, who lived to die,
who showed undying truths for all,
was more than just some special guy.
The quietude of Saturday,
is brightened by a single thought:
that grave we knew was occupied,
would stun the world that now it's not.

Remembering that Friday has come,
but Sunday's a'comin'!
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Hands

Postby prmiller » Mon Apr 08, 2013 10:43 pm

The hand that mills the golden grain,
the hand that hoes rain-softened sod,
the hand that clears a leaf-clogged drain,
the hand that guides with staff and rod,
the hand that writes a lifting thought,
the hand that pulls in fish-full nets,
the hand that ties a sturdy knot,
the hand that calms our fevered pets,
those hands that labour day by day,
with discipline of daily skill,
are treasures, who, in their own way,
seem most content with this goodwill
to lift, to fix, to plant, to build,
to love, to heal, to guide, to pray,
and by these tasks, see much fulfilled,
that we might sing and dance and play.
Oh noble hands, who toil with grace,
may goodness fill your working place.

Blessings,
Parm :)

 
Hooray for the joys of June!

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For Mr. Mac

Postby prmiller » Thu Apr 11, 2013 11:22 am

I see your great and giving heart
that loves with practicality:
some toast and jam, along with tea,
or fish and chips with broccoli.
A gift that folds into the palm,
advice you give with loving grace,
a guiding word, when plans go wrong,
a crescent smile upon your face.
Do not think once that all of these,
were seeds that fell on rock-hard ground:
no, I have passed our loving on;
perhaps you've seen it going 'round.
I hope you will not mind my praise,
resounding in this hall of rhymes,
for you have been an angel sent,
who helps us through our darker times.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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These Days

Postby prmiller » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:08 am

I want to say
I am productive
honestly
I am playing games
I am having fun
we
frolic for the first time
in such a very long time
feel
enjoyment with life without guilt
can savour seasons without sermons,
glad
that as we enjoy these days
we know more are coming

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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thinking about my homework

Postby prmiller » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:15 am

throughout the night
sitting with my laptop
glancing over at
that
book which reminds me
in stoic silence
how I ought to be
reading/thinking/writing/doing
homework
blushing badly because
the teacher is procrastinating
with all sorts of valid reasons
lost notebook
missing pen
wobbly desk
rumbly tummy
dry lips
scratchy throat
yawny mouth
dim light
no inspiration
how can I allow all this fidgeting
maybe it is because it is that
thing
I used to always bemoan having to do
homework
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Insta-poem

Postby prmiller » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:24 am

she actually boasted this
I can do a poem
right here
right now
go
I said
and off she went
poetically
shifting tenses
dangling participles
splitting infinitives
with dull imagery
then looking triumphant
with her see-I-told-you expression
insta-poem
just add beat box
and mix
I blinked
responded
it certainly was quick
to which she
flicked her ponytail
yep
as she spun off
to impress yet another guest
at this soiree
dedicated
to showcasing young talent
yes
young


yes


young.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby Old_Begonia » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:38 am

Oh dear.


Here in the night,
under the New Grass Moon,
Is such a sight
And none too soon.

My new phone glows
With updates warm and new
Exasperation flows
In uncharacteristic mew.

Let the joy return
Of shedding light on the path
Of those who learn,
literature, not math.


[ok, not as well thought out as it might be, but I hope you like it]
"And it is said by the Eldar that in water there lives yet the echo of the Music of the Ainur more than in any substance else that is in this Earth; and many of the Children of Ilúvatar hearken still unsated to the voices of the Sea, and yet know not for what they listen."

There is something profound about standing AT sea level.
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experiment

Postby prmiller » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:42 am

I rhyme too much
read a well-meaning note nudged my way after reading several of my poems
I cling to structure
continued this observation perhaps to be a gauntlet thrown
Consider an experiment
concluded this memorandum hoping it would send me galloping off
Try to break formulas
so I straightened my rusty battered armour gee-upped my steed
Attempt something new
the windmill looked monstrously large with iambic pentameter graffitied on it
Surprise yourself poetically
the arm of the mill swept me out of my saddle flinging me to the earth
where I decided there and then
to join that host of battered men
who learn their lessons when they fail,
with pummeled helms and torn-up mail;
to work with others who have skills
who write eschewing rhymes with frills,
but take emergent thoughts and find
a structure of another kind.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby Old_Begonia » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:44 am

Like.
"And it is said by the Eldar that in water there lives yet the echo of the Music of the Ainur more than in any substance else that is in this Earth; and many of the Children of Ilúvatar hearken still unsated to the voices of the Sea, and yet know not for what they listen."

There is something profound about standing AT sea level.
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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby prmiller » Fri Apr 19, 2013 12:52 am

Old_Begonia wrote:Oh dear.


Here in the night,
under the New Grass Moon,
Is such a sight
And none too soon.

My new phone glows
With updates warm and new
Exasperation flows
In uncharacteristic mew.

Let the joy return
Of shedding light on the path
Of those who learn,
literature, not math.


[ok, not as well thought out as it might be, but I hope you like it]


The whimsied grin I find I make
at sudden paths one's forced to take
most grateful for your voice and muse
that find refreshing ways to use
exasperations that we find
ignoring other humankind;
that have a radar, vile and keen,
which finds us spent with some machine
that drains all humour from each bone
then taunts us with a dial tone.
No Luddite, I, but may I be,
from cellphone prison be set free;
collect my quarter and my dime,
searching out, on my own time,
some payphones -- those I understand --
that recognize their master's hand.

Blessings,
Parm ;)

P.S. I love your poetic thoughts!
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby CrazyGandalf » Sat Apr 27, 2013 5:45 am

Well it has been some time since I've been on these boards, but it is so refreshing to see the poetry is still free flowing in these parts. If I may, here is a little entry of mine from a moment captured in time in my memory.

Puteulanus Sol Solis
Well how shall I describe this...? 

It was like witnessing the "Puteulanus sol solis"

The blue sun 

A rare phenomenon of questionable existence

Rumored to only occur in the strangest of circumstances 

Breathtaking... 

You stood across the room 
Like a pebble stuck in shallow waters 

The stream of people rushing past you

But there you stood 

Unperturbed by the chaos 

Enchanting... 

Like an archaic painting of a greek goddess

Whimsical, yet shrouded in ethereal mystery 

Captivating, yet exhuming gentle warmth

Mesmerizing...

All sound seemed to seize 

Nay.. not all sounds 

The steady oscillating beat of a heavy drum resonated in my ears

Coming from deep within me 

Slow at first then accelerating rapidly 

Like a hasty call to arms 

The beating of my heart...

I scrambled for my weaponry
"R̶e̶s̶p̶l̶e̶n̶d̶e̶n̶t̶...?" "S̶u̶b̶l̶i̶m̶e̶...?" "S̶t̶a̶t̶u̶e̶s̶q̶u̶e̶...?"

No... 
Hmmm...

"A prepossessing picture of Pulchritude?" 

Hark! My poetic weapons fail me.

For alliterations and verbose techniques do no justice

Nor lyrical cantor seem appropriate 

To describe your effervescent beauty 

You smiled 

Just a gentle motion of retracted muscles

But it was like the sun spilt out on the horizon

Our eyes lingered at the gentle invitation 

Then just as quickly the red light changed to green

The pebble became unstuck in the shallow waters 

And with that haunting smile you disappeared amongst the throng of people

I watched as the stream gathered you up and swept you away 

"Puteulanus sol solis" had occurred

I could testify of it's reality 

Yet I had missed the ship

'Carpe Diem' had failed to materialize this day 

And Fate had folded on the winning hand

I stood deserted 

Dismayed at the lost opportunity 

Yet grateful for the priviledge given
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When Latin Strides Among Us

Postby prmiller » Thu May 09, 2013 10:32 pm

The strength of verbs,
the cant of nouns,
the rising power of adjectives,
when Latin strides
among us here,
a richer weight of glory lives.
The noun declines,
the verbs are tensed,
the adverbs capture why and how,
for when a Latin footstep falls,
I hear commands
of Caesars now.
Come sieze your diem,
so bright your sol,
let soli Deo
grip us all,
mural ad usque mural
be
and may your mare
be bright to see.
Ah, Latin!
pulcherrimus sing!
And blessings to
my animus bring.

Thank you Crazy Gandalf!
Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby CrazyGandalf » Thu May 16, 2013 7:05 pm

You are most welcome Parm! That is some brilliant usage of Latin in your prose :)
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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby prmiller » Mon Jun 03, 2013 9:27 pm

CrazyGandalf wrote:You are most welcome Parm! That is some brilliant usage of Latin in your prose :)

I am glad you enjoyed it.
I have a lot of fun learning knew languages and then playing with them.
Japanese and French are the only two languages I feel comfortable with,
but I express myself far better in Japanese than French, having used it
for nearly thirty years, whereas French drifted in and out of my life
in ten years.

Thinking of that, I am inspired:

In Homage to Tolkien-Wordsmith

He gave the silver-voice to Elves,
and lengthy lilting sounds to Ents,
grinding, gritty, Nazgul speech,
or Westron words a Hobbit vents.
Rohan's Kings have their own tongue,
and Dwarves have fashioned epic songs,
with rich and resonating runes,
or tales a Dwarf-lord well regales.
He made all these, and many more,
a tale to slake a linguist's thirst,
with lyrics of such poignant strength,
it is a mercy no hearts burst.
Some may sound loco, Spanish-wise,
or garble German Das and Der's,
be trashing tones in Mandarin,
treat French like heartless saboteurs,
but in the world that Tolkien wrought,
each star and mountain bears a name,
from edge to edge his language spreads,
and heavenward leaps up his fame.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Last edited by prmiller on Tue Jun 25, 2013 9:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Where Does One Learn One's Letters?

Postby prmiller » Wed Jun 05, 2013 10:05 pm

All day a stream of students came
to visit me to tutor them,
and in between the pleading cries,
the tugs on sleeve and vested hem,
I wondered how young hobbit folk,
or Rohan's lords, or Gondor's kings,
learned how to read and then to write,
and chronicle important things.
Did Saruman pass on the craft?
Did Gandalf start the the legacy?
How did the Tengwar come to pass?
Did teachers cross the stormy sea?
How much I dream of Imladris,
as if it were some Oxbridge realm,
devoted to the vital task
of guarding lore, not just with helm,
or sword or shield, but forged with ink
and patient pen, well-scripted text
on parchment where one trained can read,
and learn great things, and not be vexed
by ignorance of needful things,
but gain great wisdom sought by kings.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Simple Thoughts

Postby prmiller » Tue Jun 11, 2013 10:02 pm

I dip my summer-thirsty toes in Brandywine
near Buckleberry
that would do
look up at late-spring azure
in settings of green gold
ah good summer
musing on Meduseld
laved by green oceans
of summer's tall grasses
for we have travelled there
the Baggin's boy and I
with Tooks and Brandybucks
and a solid Gamgee in the group.
Did we ever get to enjoy
summer
out there
even in Ithilien?
We were bathed in rainbows
I remember
We caught glimpses of elenor.
Did we ever have a chance
to savour summer
like we are doing
now?

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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In Minas Tirith When It Rains

Postby prmiller » Tue Jun 18, 2013 10:25 pm

Silver curtains brush across
the crisp brown carpet
that leads to the heights
of Gondor
We stand here
the guards and I
eager for the cool wetness
that relieves us of
summer sweat
stinking sweat
soldier's sweat
rain or shine we are here
but there has been more
shine and shine and shine
until the great clouds gathered
to sing thunderous songs
entertain us with lightning
bless us with rain.
In Minas Tirith
when it rains
we, too, rejoice
for the White Tree
blossoms strongly again
even as we
in the rain.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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Swiftly

Postby prmiller » Tue Jun 25, 2013 12:11 am

The Ring finds Frodo's finger bared
and swift as thought, *slap through the floor!"
the Hobbit disappears and brings
the help of Strider to his door.
How swiftly life can dart and speed,
upend a life or end a curse,
surround a heart with blessedness
or floods of grief or even worse.
Great Barad-dur, grim Orthanc's twin,
is breached by powers evil forged,
volcanos burst, the earth's great mouth
cracks open and is swiftly gorged.
A blink, a beat, a rapid swoop,
twinkling moments evanesce,
angel hosts, in gleaming hordes,
bring Glorias to heal and bless.
All so swiftly, speeding change,
interrupts with joys or pain,
the balance tips, with sudden choice
to cheer or fight the day of rain.
My city reels with clamant woes,
yet hours ago, the streets were lit.
Today I see lights swiftly dim
on banks where legions grimly sit.
Come make this time speed up and go,
skip days ahead, let weeks be years,
that we will swiftly see that dawn
that buoys our souls, and dries our tears.

Parm
Hooray for the joys of June!

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prmiller
I am Parm: Servant of Eru, Bard of Imladris

 
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I Should Know More

Postby prmiller » Tue Jun 25, 2013 10:15 pm

Sunday after service
and we have been inspired
with references to Tolkien's tome.
So few know of my wanderings here.
I sigh and wonder,
should I make it known...
I am a Tolkien scholar?
In this mood I hear,
a voice waft in,
"Mr. Miller, have you read The Lord of the Rings?"
a cherubic poppet asks
all bright with hope
that the grey-haired
spectacled, liver-spotted man,
may connect with a cultural reference
of a book from long ago and far away.
He seems all dressed in battle array,
helm to hauberk,
astride a steed of noble line.
"Oh, yes." I nod sagely. *A lovely book.*
"It's hard."
The bright eyes dim.
His lance becomes broadsword weight,
drops to the carpet
that for a moment
became the greensward of Rohan.
Gandalf-I,
peer
under my not-so-bushy eyebrows
down at the lad and intone:
"Indeed, it is hard. Just right for turning little boys into men."
His eyes, like the Window on the West
gleam.
Swiftly we are men-at-arms.
He on a swift stallion,
I on my Shadowfax.
Off he gallops
grabbing the reins of his
Oxford English Dictionary,
to find orcs
that he might sing as he slays ,
to find trolls
that he might boast of the battles.
That is my reverie.
All is shattered with that
boy-to-a-man-on-the-threshold voice
"And...do you speak Elvish?"
Silence.
"A bit.
More silence.
"Why?"
"I guess I thought you'd know more."
"I know enough to greet and meet."
Stumbling.
"I know enough to say goodbye."
Backpedal.
"OK. I'll see ya later."
Did I just see the rider dismount
and disappear into an SUV?
Pinked and blushing
I, Parm, reflects...
Yes, I should know more.
I have walked through those pages
scores of times.
I should know more.
Perhaps we shall meet again,
the boy-man warrior and I,
and I shall suggest that we visit
Imladris
and together be schooled
in High Elven ways.
Still...
I should know more.
I should... .

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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prmiller
I am Parm: Servant of Eru, Bard of Imladris

 
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Joined: Tue Jul 09, 2002 8:04 am
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Re: Poetry with Parm

Postby prmiller » Fri Jul 05, 2013 9:28 pm

Fangorn Fragrances
Earth-rich, deep-scented,
rain-scrubbed freshness
not all is sharp with pine pungency
the finger points
there
there is that tree
with all its scents
that penetrates the eager nostrils
to fill cavity and memory with
woody wonders.
Sated, slumped again stalwart trunks
this weary vessel
lies with open abandon
to the treasure of aromas
the festival of fragrances
that are the breath and life
of Fangorn.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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prmiller
I am Parm: Servant of Eru, Bard of Imladris

 
Posts: 7233
Joined: Tue Jul 09, 2002 8:04 am
Location: Calgary, Alberta, CANADA
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Darker Alliances

Postby prmiller » Mon Jul 08, 2013 12:18 am

What would life be like in the shadows?
How hard would it be to be dark?
Preferring the moors over meadows,
the raven instead of the lark?
If starting that path, are there places
where one can turn round and return?
What evils would swallow the graces,
what goodness would perish and burn?
I sense it is far less demanding
to give over places to vice,
and maybe as painful as branding,
would all this come at great price?
No, I shall stay strong in the sunlight;
the shadow life seems all amiss,
stand still in the silver of moonlight,
and find there a far better bliss.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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prmiller
I am Parm: Servant of Eru, Bard of Imladris

 
Posts: 7233
Joined: Tue Jul 09, 2002 8:04 am
Location: Calgary, Alberta, CANADA
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The Path One Chooses

Postby prmiller » Wed Feb 12, 2014 2:51 am

We look at the story of Sauron,
and shudder to think that his life
could be echoed in ours, but our choices
can lead to great joy or great strife.
We think of great Gandalf, Istari,
once guided by Saruman's word,
we watched how each pathway would change them,
and what from their choices occurred.
Indeed, it is all a great story,
that epic, The Lord of the Rings,
but legends and tales can instruct us,
and teach us about many things.
Thus, when I am heedless of choices,
my conscience is pricked by a name,
and I see the path that one chooses,
can lead to delight...or to shame.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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prmiller
I am Parm: Servant of Eru, Bard of Imladris

 
Posts: 7233
Joined: Tue Jul 09, 2002 8:04 am
Location: Calgary, Alberta, CANADA
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The Great Gift of Being Together

Postby prmiller » Wed Feb 12, 2014 3:13 am

Come servers, and bring us a flagon!
Come harpers and bring us song!
Come bards and draw near for the singing,
for this is place we belong!
How grand when the gem finds its fitting,
how lovely when harmonies blend,
how splendid when gifted hearts forge us
a fellowship that shall not end.
I sing of the gift of belonging,
the goodness togetherness brings,
and all of the wonders it fashions,
a power far great than kings.
For good hearts seek out peace and justice,
and loyal hearts craft healing bonds.
How good when the wise bid us join them...
and oh, how with joy, one responds!
Come hobbit-folk, cheer us with feasting,
Come Rohan and Gondor, draw near,
Come all good alliances, join us,
be glad for our unity here.

Blessings,
Parm :)
Hooray for the joys of June!

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prmiller
I am Parm: Servant of Eru, Bard of Imladris

 
Posts: 7233
Joined: Tue Jul 09, 2002 8:04 am
Location: Calgary, Alberta, CANADA
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