Post by Corwin on May 25, 2005 0:04:31 GMT -5
This is a story written in a poem form. Write any kind of poetry you want, but please try to stay on topic. The setting is in Bree right after the fall of Sauron. Frodo has sailed and Esselar sits on the throne of Gondor.
The fields of green, the roads of brown,
the smell of smoke drifts through the down.
Corwin sits astride a haycart, feeling
the breeze upon his face and peeling
an apple of savory juices.
The wind whips as Corwin sips sweet juice.
The fields of green, the roads of brown,
the smell of smoke drifts through the down.
Corwin sits astride a haycart, feeling
the breeze upon his face and peeling
an apple of savory juices.
The wind whips as Corwin sips sweet juice.
