Mixin' It Up

I'm not much of a poet, but I wrote a fantasy poem recently, sent it off to two places consecutively, and was rejected both times (I pretty much expected as much).  Rather than a multi-paragraph literary criticism today, I'm going to post that poem and a miniscule Tolkein critique.


Tolkein had the ability to narrate every inch of a setting without it seeming egragious.  I am yet to read beyond The Hobbit and the first 100 pages of LOTR, but I'll surely finish his trilogy soon.

[7/29/16 Update: LOTR isn't a trilogy, and I still haven't finished it.]

Reunion of Creatures

The wind in the mountains,

Whistles an arcane song,

Drawing in every magic beast,

Scurrying from the east.

They pool together in a throng,

Mixed from mightiest to least,

Each furry head bent to hear,

The magical melody of the druidic seer.

He sings ballads of the glorious feast,

Eaten by monsters in campaign or career,

Munching of vermin or human bone,

Meal ended by daybreak or they’re turned to stone.

Fortified with zeal to cause fear,

Each bickers of limits to their hunting zone,

Then sets off for home,

Under the pale light of night’s full dome.