Elvenholm by the very talented poet Liza Jones, painting by me.

Elvenholm

"Within the treeholm, cool and green,
Where solitude makes quiet peace,
Naught stirs the quiet of rill or dene;
Desire fades safely in its keeping.
Yet still the longing will not cease
For blue wave and the watery sheen,
It calls my heart with no release
At Sun's awaking or Moon's sleeping.

But when the Moon draws back the tide

He drags upon my soul as well,

When the siren call is cried

My heart is ever seaward turning.

Whither my path, I cannot tell,

So yet I loiter by Mirrormede's side

While Ilúvatar calls from the ocean swell,

I linger on, my heart still yearning.

When the Sun casts down her gold
That awakes the final dawn,
The lure of sapphire seas is told
And wood and fern must be forsaken,
With tears of joy, I sweetly mourn
The Sun's red heat, the Moon's blue cold,
For then my blood is newly born,
On a tall grey ship, my spirit taken."