Heir and son of Gondor

A friends nickname for me

It seems so long ago in company of such excellent friends that one gave me this gracious nickname; heir of Gondor, it made a lasting impression on me so much in fact that I used it for my email.  How I miss those who welcomed me into their lives, sharing their love for Lord of the Rings-- it is to this that I write in memory, to further explain my thoughts and feelings.  It is one of my hopes and dreams to someday be involved in a Tolkien's production in any capacity. 

 

Being heir to the White city of old,

still journey's road leads away

 

Wondering still when silver turns gold,

ancient evil casts shadows day

 

Yet good still remains to fight for,

dear friends worthy charge do inspire

 

Lighting ones way back through war,

hearing hearts homeward longing desire

 

To grand City's or simple grassy cozy dens,

filled cheerfully splendid melody memories

 

Duty come not yet passed through muddy glens,

light cannot allow darkness exist over lands emery

 

How others hold such high honor upon me,

friendships warmth keeps despair distant 

 

Until all turns silver glass do we see,

One gracefully leads only consistent