It's time to choose which entry will win the Tolkien's Yule Season Contest!
We have seen many wonderful contributions to this contest but now it is time to place your votes to see which lucky person will be the winner.
Only registered members are eligible to vote. One vote per eligible member.
The winner will be chosen from the entire group by all of you voting in this poll. I have increased the poll size to accommodate all of your entries.
Voting has now commenced, and will take place until 4:00pm (U.S. Mountain Standard Time) on Christmas Eve (12-24) at which time we will announce the ONE winner.
Good luck to all of our entrants!
#1
One Christmas Eve I dozed before the fire,
And as I dozed, I dreamt of festive fun:
A Christmas in the spirit of the Shire,
A time of light and joy for everyone.
I dreamt of cakes & ale, of bread & wine,
Of music, dancing, poetry and song;
Where everybody had a lovely time
And young & old alike joined in the throng.
When I awoke, upon the hearth I found
A sprig of some mysterious silver tree;
As though an elf had come without a sound
And left a Christmas gift there, just for me;
And all around me then I heard the call:
"Let there be peace on Earth! goodwill to all!"
Bilbo in Rivendell by Alan Lee
<hr>
#2
The 25 of Yulemuth Parting
On the winter soltice, the shortest day of light did the nine depart.
From Rivendell did two Men, four Hobbits, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Wizard set out on a quest.
Their task was to undo a great evil, a ring of power and pain to be made udone in the fires from wence it came.
To this task noble men brought knowlege of swords, the elf keen sight and arrows true, Hobbits small but stern;
these friends of the earth, the dwarf with iron resolve and steadfast will;
hard as living rock, and the wizard; wise servant of the secret fire.
Of all these skills none were greater than the love they bore.
Blessed were they of Elbereth who's grace shone upon them, yet even unto the darkest places of Middle Earth.
For pity would undo what malice had wrought.
On that longest night did hope shine within thier hearts which would guide them to what end they did not know.
All roads lead to one end and darkness passes into fair morning light.
<hr>
#3
In Ithilien, dark trees stand
sentinel over the tumbling land
In the White City, banners soar
over stone streets warmed with open doors
In Lothlorien, leaves of mallorn
Lay thickly upon the land forlorn
Far north, the Iron Mountains lie
Reaching stony heights to icy skies
And winter winds sweep night to morn,
in the Misty Mountains, ‘round old Redhorn
But here I lie, in my warm bed
Feather pillow tucked behind my head
In the Shire that I love best
No other place, no other rest
is where I’d rather be this Yule
(Except, perhaps, where horselords rule)
Among these folk, my friends, my kin
together we’ll sing the New Year in
And a toast I’ll raise, and drink with pride
to friends afar in the world outside.
Bag End, by John Howe
<hr>
#4
Christmas with the Balrog
In Moria I’d like to be
When winter snows start falling
But not with Trolls or Goblin hoards,
That would be quite appalling.
No! I’d be deep, deep down below,
Snug and warm and toasting,
Sitting with my Balrog friend
With chestnuts ever roasting
On an open fire. That would be grand.
The heat would be really handy,
We’d stuff ourselves with hot mince pies
And pud with flaming brandy.
We’d chat about the Good Old Days
When Morgoth would pop in for tea,
While I bask in Balrog’s cosy home
And warm my toes upon his knee.
It’s Christmas like I always dreamed
With roaring fires glowing,
Away from bitter frosts and snows
And freezing North Wind’s blowing.
So it’s good to know a Balrog
Who’s heart is warm and glowing
And who’s hearth is always 2000 degrees
Even when it’s snowing.
#5
In winter solstice silence,
The armed wanderer bent,
Head bowed to knee, overwhelmed.
“So it begins,” thought he,
“The road to my destiny . . . my hope . . .
But the way is dark,
The enemy is strong,
And I . . . am weak.”
With a sigh,
He raised his doubtful eyes
And beheld the infinite peace and purity
Of the blessed Lady’s immaculate stars.
In their light, his heart swelled,
Remembering his beloved’s words of faith . . .
In him
In them.
“A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn,
Ú or le a ú or nin.”
And it seemed to him then
That Varda’s blessed stars
Flashed in the velvet sky,
And likewise, on his breast
The Evenstar glimmered
To honor his Lady’s belief.
“Be iest lîn, Arwen, meleth nin,”
He breathed.
“Forward I go,
In hope,
In faith . . .
And in the light of
Evenstar and Everwhite,
May our road be blessed!”
© TolkienTown
We have seen many wonderful contributions to this contest but now it is time to place your votes to see which lucky person will be the winner.
Only registered members are eligible to vote. One vote per eligible member. The winner will be chosen from the entire group by all of you voting in this poll. I have increased the poll size to accommodate all of your entries. Voting has now commenced, and will take place until 4:00pm (U.S. Mountain Standard Time) on Christmas Eve (12-24) at which time we will announce the ONE winner. Good luck to all of our entrants!
#1
One Christmas Eve I dozed before the fire,
And as I dozed, I dreamt of festive fun:
A Christmas in the spirit of the Shire,
A time of light and joy for everyone.
I dreamt of cakes & ale, of bread & wine,
Of music, dancing, poetry and song;
Where everybody had a lovely time
And young & old alike joined in the throng.
When I awoke, upon the hearth I found
A sprig of some mysterious silver tree;
As though an elf had come without a sound
And left a Christmas gift there, just for me;
And all around me then I heard the call:
"Let there be peace on Earth! goodwill to all!"
Bilbo in Rivendell by Alan Lee
<hr>
#2
The 25 of Yulemuth Parting
On the winter soltice, the shortest day of light did the nine depart.
From Rivendell did two Men, four Hobbits, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Wizard set out on a quest.
Their task was to undo a great evil, a ring of power and pain to be made udone in the fires from wence it came.
To this task noble men brought knowlege of swords, the elf keen sight and arrows true, Hobbits small but stern;
these friends of the earth, the dwarf with iron resolve and steadfast will;
hard as living rock, and the wizard; wise servant of the secret fire.
Of all these skills none were greater than the love they bore.
Blessed were they of Elbereth who's grace shone upon them, yet even unto the darkest places of Middle Earth.
For pity would undo what malice had wrought.
On that longest night did hope shine within thier hearts which would guide them to what end they did not know.
All roads lead to one end and darkness passes into fair morning light.
© Alan Lee
<hr>
#3
In Ithilien, dark trees stand
sentinel over the tumbling land
In the White City, banners soar
over stone streets warmed with open doors
In Lothlorien, leaves of mallorn
Lay thickly upon the land forlorn
Far north, the Iron Mountains lie
Reaching stony heights to icy skies
And winter winds sweep night to morn,
in the Misty Mountains, ‘round old Redhorn
But here I lie, in my warm bed
Feather pillow tucked behind my head
In the Shire that I love best
No other place, no other rest
is where I’d rather be this Yule
(Except, perhaps, where horselords rule)
Among these folk, my friends, my kin
together we’ll sing the New Year in
And a toast I’ll raise, and drink with pride
to friends afar in the world outside.
Bag End, by John Howe
<hr>
#4
Christmas with the Balrog
In Moria I’d like to be
When winter snows start falling
But not with Trolls or Goblin hoards,
That would be quite appalling.
No! I’d be deep, deep down below,
Snug and warm and toasting,
Sitting with my Balrog friend
With chestnuts ever roasting
On an open fire. That would be grand.
The heat would be really handy,
We’d stuff ourselves with hot mince pies
And pud with flaming brandy.
We’d chat about the Good Old Days
When Morgoth would pop in for tea,
While I bask in Balrog’s cosy home
And warm my toes upon his knee.
It’s Christmas like I always dreamed
With roaring fires glowing,
Away from bitter frosts and snows
And freezing North Wind’s blowing.
So it’s good to know a Balrog
Who’s heart is warm and glowing
And who’s hearth is always 2000 degrees
Even when it’s snowing.
© The Brothers Hildebrandt
#5
In winter solstice silence,
The armed wanderer bent,
Head bowed to knee, overwhelmed.
“So it begins,” thought he,
“The road to my destiny . . . my hope . . .
But the way is dark,
The enemy is strong,
And I . . . am weak.”
With a sigh,
He raised his doubtful eyes
And beheld the infinite peace and purity
Of the blessed Lady’s immaculate stars.
In their light, his heart swelled,
Remembering his beloved’s words of faith . . .
In him
In them.
“A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn,
Ú or le a ú or nin.”
And it seemed to him then
That Varda’s blessed stars
Flashed in the velvet sky,
And likewise, on his breast
The Evenstar glimmered
To honor his Lady’s belief.
“Be iest lîn, Arwen, meleth nin,”
He breathed.
“Forward I go,
In hope,
In faith . . .
And in the light of
Evenstar and Everwhite,
May our road be blessed!”
© Alan Lee