Tuesday, March 20, 2007

The Mine Of Strength

Far away beyond shore and foam,
In the forgotten backyard of his home,
What does the lad look to find?

He digs and digs, never tiring,
Soiling his clothes and perspiring,
What, indeed, does the lad look to find?

Perhaps wealth hidden by his Sires,
Got from caves lonely, beyond mires,
What, indeed, does the lad look to find?

May be a gentle souvenir rather,
On a high day, given, by his father,
What, indeed, does the lad look to find?

Not, surely, a weapon to tame the wiles,
Of the unseen enemy full of guiles?
What, indeed, does the lad look to find?


A new strength--
Strengthened anew
He emerges now,
From bonds, not a few,
Knowing the fact, verily,
That there is return again,
That there is digging again,
That there is searching again,
That there is soiling again,
To, his strength, gain.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Cat

Cat

The fat cat on the mat
may seem to dream
of nice mice that suffice
for him, or cream;
but he free, maybe,
walks in thought
unbowed, proud, where loud
roared and fought
his kin, lean and slim,
or deep in den
in the East feasted on beasts
and tender men.
The giant lion with iron
claw in paw,
and huge ruthless tooth
in gory jaw;
the pard dark-starred,
fleet upon feet,
that oft soft from aloft
leaps upon his meat
where woods loom in gloom --
far now they be,
fierce and free,
and tamed is he;
but fat cat on the mat
kept as a pet
he does not forget.

-- J. R. R. Tolkien