The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and Tolkien - The One Ring

by **Hunter** » Wed Oct 24, 2001 11:32 am

Truly one of your best Terry D <img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0>

by **Arwen740** » Wed Oct 24, 2001 11:45 am

The gentle voice of sunlight caresses the valley, softly illuminating her contours. His healing smile permeates her cool soil, awakening tiny organisms with his warmth. Ever devoured, ever renewing, the earth is mother and child. Come dance in the valley and sing with the sighing winds. Lie still in the grass and wrap yourself in her ancient arms to witness her birth. Allow the healing light to embrace your soul. Become the sacred wedding feast.

by **tuile** » Wed Oct 24, 2001 11:56 am

wow you two..all I can say..wow!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> May I soak some of that beauty into my soul...<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0>

by **Speaker-To-Animals** » Thu Oct 25, 2001 9:36 pm

The words are truly beautiful. I can not call myself a writer after reading them.

by **Terry D** » Fri Oct 26, 2001 11:29 pm

"The Water is Deep" Oak physician, tender your remedy, Heal those who wander the difficult way. Nurture those who dare impossible tasks Foster those who continue, maintain, and ask. Solely the pure were, it is spoken able to approach the butterfly token, those, else approaching, merely gaze, simply see it disappear, as mists before their eyes. The water is very deep… Submerged beneath, lies a land of limited reality A hand, a cup, a sacred vessel, a sea… Brimming with romances, with curiosity. Swimming in tides of metal and gemstone, Embracing the swimmer, never alone. The water is deep… Flower doctor spread your perfumed remedies. Scented sweet, increase each vessel’s ability. Assist the remembering, the wakening of dreams, deepen the quality of internal flowing streams. Make manifest symbolic content. Emote with fragrances that are reminiscent… The water is very deep… Swim dream voyagers, through tides wrestle, Submerge and enter that sacred vessel. Discover that empty glass, that filled Cauldron, drink the immortality of friendship’s wisdom. the water is deep… Butterflies describe the air with colored drops, as a sea of gem fire, the flower crop. With wing and blossum dreams appear, into waking moments, ever near. Butterflies grant the ethereal ability to look inside water and truly see, what Past, Present, and Future will be… The water is very deep… Is it too dear a task? can we see? That there are two realms of possibility… Each to each, connected and interwoven, one of root, one of vessel stolen… Beneath the waves, in liquid descent, swim to Underworld, fully prescient. With butterfly and garden wife, enter and dwell in an afterlife, a place beyond belief and known, where sacrifice and death are done. Together swim with dreamy realms, of the unconscious, inspired, eternal rhythms. The water is dear and deep…

by **Arwen740** » Sun Oct 28, 2001 8:30 am

Dear butterfly gardens, I leave you now. I wish I had time to visit but I'm off to work now and I haven't anything more to share here. I may return someday. I'm not sure. All of my creativity seems to have run out of me. I'll miss everyone here. Torc has meant so much to me. Thank you for sharing your kind gentle hearts. Good bye, Love, Arwen740

by **tuile** » Sun Oct 28, 2001 10:27 am

Tuile's heart constricted with joy at the words of Terry and Arwen. It then swelled and reached out to Speaker, trying to comfort him, for his writing too was as exquisite as the brilliant stars in the heavens. Confusion then swirled around, and the butterflies in her heart became frantic in the wakes. A cool wind rushed up and tossed the delicate insects from flower to tree. They lost their sense of direction and then were tumbled and swept from her heart as Arwen took her leave.

by **gwendalar** » Sun Oct 28, 2001 4:04 pm

Arwen, sail safely until you return to us for here we will wait and tend the garden.

by **Snowdog** » Mon Oct 29, 2001 8:41 am

A dark day it is in TorCland when the dear Arwen740 comes no more to grace its ground. You will be missed Lady Arwen, and I will always hold dear all your words written here. I myself come seldom to the garden and it is a fading of Snowdog. But I will ever watch for you dear friend. ::hugs::

by **Snowdog** » Fri Nov 09, 2001 10:01 pm

Snowdog was weary when he came to the garden, and he lay down under a wintering tree with few leaves. The low sun shone it weak warmth upon him as he leaned against the trunk, and he looked about the gardens. The coming winter' fingers reached out its icy grip as the garden now slept, and Snowdog pulled his bearskin cloak tight about him. As the warmth came to him he fell aspeep and soon he started to dream. A wisp of white dances before him, twirling and turning, with a wave of soft silk. A smile and a word so soft, they reach out and touch Snowdog with their caring fingers. A poem and a song sung so sweet in his ears, and the birds did sing accompaniment. Snowdog looks up at her as she reaches and takes his hand and with a look, she says to him, Walk with me will you, this garden so fair! To see its beauty and breath its air. For though the world is heavy, you sir, care And may I be a part of your garden, will you have me there? Snowdog stood and with her he walked. They talked some and the spring was bright. And as summer slid by they grew together, until the summer stretched and then for a time the garden rested. Snowdog grew to know the beauty of the garden and he revealed his soul to her. She in turn opened up and they embraced each other in a gentle breath of friendship, and they parted company for a time. Snowdog awoke still against the tree, the winds breath blew cold it seemed. He looked around for the Lady in white, with her dance of grace and her smile bright. but she was nowhere in sight. Snowdog stood and pulling his cloak tight. He walked the garden with the dropped leaves blowing by, and at the canyon he looked to the sky. A cloud of grey pointed the way, and Snowdog walked to the shadow of a pine. There she was all huddled and tired, with a burdun so heavy, but her beauty still admired. A smile and a dance she had no more, and the dry winds blew through the garden as they slept now in the winter sun. A tear rolled down Snowdog's cheek, for he didn't know if he could ever look upon the place again, for it will never be the same. Where is the wise words of Lady Galadriel? Where is the sensous woven words of the Lady Arwen? Where is the sweet playful dance of Genuvere? Where is the swift flight of freedom of Raven Tinuviel? Only Terry D remained it seemed, for in his words flowed fortune. May one day again in the spring and in time of renewal, may the garden sprout growth anew, and the essence of the ones I love return to their former glory. Snowdog felt the ache of the Garden and he smiled no more.

by **erinhue** » Sat Nov 10, 2001 12:17 am

Erinhue lingered in a place where winter’s herald had already done its work. Naked tree limbs jab the slate flat skies while fallen leaves, like fallen memories, spin drunkenly on the wind and swirl in the mind. Numbing breezes cut through the empty canyons while broken spires, burned and blackened, hover now just slightly overhead, sentinel ghosts of the past and mocking monuments to the future. He looked upon the heaps of destroyed dreams spread out in a tableau of twisted fate. He listened to the voices stirring in the wind because there was no other breath to carry them. He saw again, in his minds eye, the shining towers that once stretched majestic to the clouds, gleaming there, forever and now forever gone. And when he thought his heart would break, he turned away from the ruins and walked out of the city. Following his heart as it sought a healing balm Erinhue came again to the Butterfly Gardens. Autumn’s glory put color back in his soul and the gentle breezes thawed the chill around his heart. A golden sunrise started the day anew in every moment. The voices in the gentle breezes here spoke of camaraderie and friendship. The voices called his name and in the sound he felt acceptance and even affection. The voices sang to him in the wind and the sound was full of welcome. And the bard picked up his harp to answer them. The thought that his voice could join with theirs and add again some measure of what he himself received filled him with joy. Touching his fingers to the strings he let the music stirring in him flow into the dragonharp and through it out into the world. The song was one of humble gratitude, of awed honor, and the guilty pleasures of recognition and of knowing there is a place in space and time, in the mind, in the heart, a place that can be home to the spirit. (OOC – I have no words for how grateful and honored I am to have been awarded that little plaque in my signature. I want to thank anyone who ever read one of my posts and thought maybe that it might be good. Your faith in me has gotten me back to work on the book I’ve been working on. With your encouragement, ONE SWEET DAY I shall live up the your expectations. Thank you one and all, I shall be eternally grateful for the honor of having posted with all of you.)

by **Terry D** » Mon Nov 12, 2001 5:14 am

Bard, you certainly deserve our appreciative recognition! Thank you for sharing your talent and whimsy and profound heart with us. We are the better for knowing you... snowy huuggs for Arwen 740!

by **tuile** » Mon Nov 12, 2001 11:30 am

<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> I agree with Terry!!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> Thank you Erinhue!!!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> Congrats on the book!!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> And thank you Terry!!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0> ((HUGS)) to ya Arwen!!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> Tuile knelt by the sparkling river. She sat down and dangled her feet in the coolness of the water. Staring into the depths of the river, searching for the answers to the riddles played out in the ripples on the surface, a small movement caught her gaze. Near a little alcove of rocks and the roots of a magestic tree, a small silver fish was caught in a whirlpool. Spinning, his little sleek body reflected the sun's brilliance off of his bright mail. His body was moving so swiftly yet his eye seemed so still and fixed Tuile's gaze. She stood in the water and felt the current push at her legs. Wading over to the fish, her feet numbing with cold, she reached into the whirlpool. She was not sucked in nor was her hand terribly tossed about by the swirling water. She managed to gently yet firmly take hold of the small fish and move him out of the whirlpool. She opened her hand and he was gone. Many ((HUGS)) to you all.

by **Terry D** » Tue Nov 13, 2001 6:35 am

The silver fish, swimming in freedom, flicked its tail and returned to tuile... terrific tuile, enchanting tuile, scientific tuile, creative tuile. Two-fold currents of electricity, tremulous, tantalizing, took a u-turn and entwined within tuile's tender heart. Electric, as a train racing on tracks, the current tightly twisted in an embrace of egalitarian tintabulation! Ahhhh, tuile, tuile, a name, a tasty treat for the tip of one's tongue! An interplay of trade winds. A tip-toe into anticipation. Ahh, tuile, tuile, too true to be actual. Yet, she is!!! She is a plantation of tilled perfection. A garden of tunes, a melody of attentiveness. She is a tumbledown scurry of tall tumblegrasses... she takes any task with two shakes of a lamb's tail. Adorable! Atomic! Trustworthy! A dream, betwixt lover's trysts and timeless chimes... that's our tuile! What is the attraction? It's in the detail, the intelligence, the integrity, the intrinsic, intrepid, motif of devotion. She is vortex, an inventory of titilation! Do the arithmetic... tuile is astronomical!

by **Terry D** » Mon Nov 19, 2001 8:17 am

Quest with step, your story tell, dream and drink from this garden's well. Dare to be more than what's inside, no longer is need to run and hide. With contemplation, be yourself, now cloak and hat are on the shelf. List your eyes in wholesome thought, Learn from memory, with yearning taught. Golden days when we were young, with heart uplifted, of victories sung. Free to gaze with starlit eyes, to vision loveliness with sweet surprise. Search with butterfly, with hummingbird hover, and soon and simply your soul uncover. Seek with pure and steadfast heart, discover what will be your part.

by **tuile** » Tue Nov 20, 2001 1:36 am

What a wonderous invite! Pure mystery and sheer delight! Questions are now swimming, round and round quite brimming, of who and what I shall be! A sky diver of soaring grace, or a swimmer in liquid embrace? A lawyer awash in books, or a model, with legs and looks?? What oh what should I be? A butterfly lightly landing, upon a flower who'd be understanding, A singer with soulful gift or a dodo bird, last one left? What oh what shall I be? An archeaologist, by toil revealing past art in soil? or a dust particle adrift by theft, by a wiley elephant taking a breath? What on earth can I be? The list is quite endless, so please someone send us, some directions and plans, Tout Suite!! <img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-tongue.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0>

by **Cynara** » Tue Nov 20, 2001 2:52 pm

Cynara, forgotten in the long-past pages of antiquity, drops out of her willow-tree, and sadly makes her way to the gates of this beautiful garden. It seems that the everyday wear of life has drained her of the joyfully energy she had used to make her previous posts of joy and light. Goodbye, I may be back, in time.

by **tuile** » Tue Nov 20, 2001 4:25 pm

Cynara!!!!<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-sad.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-sad.gif"border=0> Stray not far, and know we think of you often.. ((HUGS)) The Willow Tree awaits your return as do all of us... <img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0>

by **gwendalar** » Tue Nov 20, 2001 4:56 pm

The Butterfly landed next to a gray seagull. It seemed out of place, a riot of orange and black. It danced its way thru the flock and kissed the emerald green salt waters. It fluttered dizzily as tho the salt was to much for it. It seemed out of place, a riot of orange and black. For a moment it landed on my knee and watched me. I felt its very thoughts. It seemed out of place, a riot of orange and black. It told me of a clear waterfall in a land across the Gulf. With many others of its kind. Its small body shivered. I felt its weariness and knew as it did. That it wouldn't make the long trip. I felt its saddness. Its death soon to be. It seemed out of place, a riot of orange and black. We shared the fall sunlight. Then a slight breeze lifted the butterfly and it flew out over the sea. It seemed out of place, a riot of orange and black. I watched a moment till I was blinded by the sea. I said a simple prayer and wished for its safety. This wonderful riot of orange and black.

by **Terry D** » Wed Nov 21, 2001 4:46 am

On the cape, your wanderings will encounter, variety and singularity, from orange to black. Listen, still to the squawking in the air... White bodies grey wings, spanning sky and shore. Are those Laughing Gulls atop the dune? Terns, with black tops and forked tails? Listen, calls, which sound in quick "ha-ha-ha", Resound from sand and sea and sky and shore. Cynara, saddened, bows her head. tuile, awakens, delighted with a smile. gwendalar, sporting bikini, orange and black, Gulls, busy prancing on the shore. Open your cooler on the beach... filled with goodies, sweet and tasty. Recline and watch the gulls swoop to dine. Reflect, on sunset orange and nightime black. "I watched a moment till I was blinded by the sea. I said a simple prayer and wished for its safety. This wonderful riot of orange and black. "

by **tuile** » Wed Nov 21, 2001 11:16 am

Tuile's feet played in the water as she whistfully listened to Terry and Gwendalar... <img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> wow..<img src="i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0>

by **Terry D** » Mon Nov 26, 2001 5:35 am

A poetic interlude for Arwen 740... She shapes the landscape. Climatic, extreme, this desert creates... wide, ranging escape. Picture this desert in your heart. Chance upon imaginings... vast, evocative sandy plain? horizen far, as eye can see? odd cactus, which breaks monotony. Sand, furnace formed, erosed rock, tiny particles... heating, cooling, ebb and flow. And we, as rock, and Arwen action, of wind and rain, enormous temperatures, dichotomous range... expand, contract, as rock, disintegrate, crack, weathered fragments, are we... Be carried by the wind, by Arwen kissed, by water moved, erode, gradual, become so small mere grains. She shapes the landscape. And we to self no longer stay transported grains accumulate away... dunes of mountain sand, sand, sand. Extraordinary! Enormous sand mountain eroded... elsewhere, evaporation of ancient lakes enormous salt flats oceanic... She shapes the landscape. Or, clay or mud, dried hard by heat of searing desert sun... spectacular and stunning, scenery dramatic, natural gift, neither overlooked nor taken for granted... She shapes our landscape.

by **Terry D** » Tue Nov 27, 2001 6:57 am

An awakened voice, incarnate spirt, new to itself, alive, free... at risk, exquisite change, a mind, taking the measure of itself and its memories... Speak to us, directly, clearly, invite us, inform us with lucidity. With moral energy entwine the frail connections with relationship, with concern, with care... tuile is a book... she creates a tableau, highly literate, personal, an inner world revealed. tuile is a poem, not morose, exciting not melancholy, so vital. She is celebrant and elegist, she rhymes with passionate restraint, of joys, of wonder, of magic... Come home to us dear tuile....

by **Terry D** » Sun Dec 16, 2001 11:22 am

Listen, they come of old, bold, within your first hearing, of many dreams and memories told, of starlight, in soft sky appearing. Dreams of countless lifetime, of palaces and golden thrones, where life and breath sought rhyme, and ever after, meaning shone. Wishes came true, for me and you. Gaze throughout childhood’s fire, as family traveled abroad. Tales to nestle the child in quiet, imaginings, visited, slipper shod. Bard and poet ingenious, composing, resurrect ideas from sleepy heads. Rainbow colors with soft blessing, dreams, in tales, fairy led. This midnight air, fragrant with knowing, snuggles us warm in our bed. Wishes come true, for me and you. Moonlight, soft to the step, visits young hearts, in turn, as magical characters leapt. What more we can learn? What memories, stood? Reflected in storied thunder, heard in childhood. Of magic and wonder, the tales often tell. Of Princess in tower and long haired Rapunzel, of children lost in forest bower, while lambs frolic on dell. Pipers, pied piping, and questioning frogs, yearning for kissing, sleeping on logs. Then comes fairy godmother, most likely to remain in dreamland, she hovers, within Imagination’s domain. Adventures described, reflected in mirror, belief challenges desire, in unspoken terror. What shall we face? what inspire? As our journeys we make, through tales hidden in shadows. Treasure, wealth, golden we take, insight, with care, rids us of sorrows. Wishes come true, for me and you. Tales from childhood reveal a celestial pattern. Hopes, dreams, concealed, amid covers of satin. Pen your own story, don star’s glittering cape, carry memory to glory, the heavens, navigate. Mythic, your questioning lifetime, respond to collective dream. We are all a paused moment, divine, stories, in starlight, it seems. Wishes came true, for me and you.

by **Cynara** » Wed Dec 19, 2001 3:04 pm

Through the Mists and Wailing winds, I come Running down the moonbeam-spun path, I return Dancing through the rosy veils of thought, I smile Returning to the feast of gladness, sunlight, and joy, I laugh.

by **Snowdog** » Tue Dec 25, 2001 1:39 am

Soft caresses by the hand that draws me Allowing for the love I have for thee The kiss of your friendship keeps me free Your love, my love, forever holds the key

by **Cynara** » Tue Dec 25, 2001 6:56 am

Snowflakes fall softly, Carressing the dry flowers, Settling on dead grasses, Blanketing the world.

by **Harvestar** » Wed Dec 26, 2001 1:18 am

Harvestar wanders down the hill to the banks of the stream. Seating herself on a warm blanket, she clasps her knees to her chest and stares up at the starlit sky. A half moon shines brightly mirrored on the ripples of the stream. Menelvegar marches boldly across the sky as the Netted Stars twinkle merrily in their place. A meteor streaks across the sky, green to purple to red. Far overhead a faint fuzzy is visible -- the light of a distant galaxy. A bounded universe, circumscribed by infinite love, the laws of science, the mysteries of the heart.

by **Cynara** » Wed Dec 26, 2001 9:35 pm

The old world slips to a new dawn's beginning, Silent as the shining stars glimmer in the sky. Me and my love float through the dawning, This new world belongs to my true love and I.

by **Arwen740** » Tue Jan 08, 2002 2:45 am

There is such peace, such beauty here. Someday the poet will awaken within me and I will reply to the loving words here. Until then, I will lie exhausted upon the grass, lazy and dull. The sleepy butterflies drift like leaves in the cool air above me. Thank you all for continually filling me with joy and hope.

The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and Tolkien - The One Ring

Butterfly Garden - 100 Post Fair

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