A Dwarf in the Golden Wood - a poem about an unlikely meeting
There never was and ne'er shall be
A one with beauty such as she.
As if with iron to my skin
This Queen has made her mark on me.
Secure in armor cold I came
But saw her face and heard her name
And felt her eyes stab through my heart
Impaling me upon my shame.
And though the room was all a-hush
My bubbling blood began to rush
And thundered with an ardent voice.
Exposed, I could do naught but blush.
And there I stood within her spell
In pain or joy, I could not tell
'Til peace came in a sunlit flood:
A smile from Galadriel.
We stayed a season in her Wood
To rest and do our hearts some good.
When none of us could carry on
She succored us until we could.
And when we rose to leave her care
She bade my deepest wish to share.
A gift? I want for nothing but
A single strand of golden hair.
Audacious Dwarf, you ask too much!
I had no right to speak of such
A prize! How could I dare to beg
A boon I am not fit to touch!
But She is wise and kind and grand.
She made a motion with her hand.
She reached into her golden mane
And pulled from it a perfect strand.
And should one ever hence aver
That any woman rivals her,
I'll be compelled to heft my axe
And teach some manners to the cur.
Though elves and dwarves be still estranged
Across the darkened world we've ranged,
No more will Gimli have it so.
None leave the Golden Wood unchanged.