1. From Rhiwiel
A ring on a bottom of a frozen glass,
Held by the hand that has pointed once
To men of Earth the road to Paradise.
The door to summer is a dusty pane,
And warmth of streets, that full of bustle and laugh.
For you a sign of road I did draft.
Then go! Your flaxen map is white and plain,
All overdrawn with a net of traits
Invisible; all sewn with silver threads.
A chilly sermon of the blooming tales.
So let the whiteness be the pledge that lasts
So that the gold will never turn to ashes
Another worlds' clear and frosty breath.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.