(C) Copyright SNOWbear Productions. T h a n k Y o u F o r V i s i t i n g


This is just a note to self, about a portion from the original version:

“Beneath that evening star dome, lead/

Lord Elrond with his people shed/

the woes of a war torn land/

healed by a fulfilled king’s hand.//

Aboard their swan-carved ships/

with praises high on ruby lips;/

one - with Halflings dressed in vests/

rewarded for a legendary quest.//

Yet some later said by folly of pride/

those brothers fought and lied/

their bonds they broke and took/

all loyalties of oaths forsook.//

Shelda`Mar pleaded for we few to come/

aboard Valithnor’s ship, Cirdan’s drum;/

unto those undying lands of hope and grace,/

yet outraged, Vendu`Mar abandon his place.//

On faded docks did Vendu`Mar argue/

against his brother’s command he drew/

harsh words like a bitter sword that bites,/

though Shelda`Mar in sorrow took flight.//

The wizard Gan`Mereith admonished us/

to be wary against our growing lust;/

Sal`Gilvan and Veth`Dema barked back/

with their own words of black.//

We stayed like an anointed remnant,/

who saw it our goal to rule as imminent,/

teaching a new lore to lesser men/

with a diverse tongue, Sinenya I penned.//

Like unto Sindar was Sinenya made/

with new characters and words I laid;/

letters designed for new purposes crafted/

for initiated secretes were they drafted.//

For the greed of some soon railed apparent/

as our original cravings became too variant;/

instead of being counselors to students in need/

many wayward misguidings did breed.//

Celegreth of the elven Crystal Caves,/

and Kwandol the dwarven mason, made;/

a Great Hall like greeting hands/

domed six hundred years, still stands.//

Close to the bay a watchtower stood/

with a bell’s tolling alarm it would;/

chime forth the hours of the Great Hall/

for secret Brothers to heed its call.//

In that kingdom’s darkened hall we met/

among fireside rituals fussed and fret;/

knowing inwardly we hoped against hope,/

preaching failed expectations, we groped.//

High in that Watchtower’s nest/

its bell replaced we thought best;/

with a pyre set eternally aflame,/

for others to return without shame.//

On the day the oil-soaked wood was lit,/

by Fay`Symodare’s death all were hit;/

the shadow that fulfilled Mereith’s woe,/

the bane of mortal man became our snow.//

From his ashes we gathered a portion/

entombed in an urn with grave distinction;/

the rest we scattered upon the sea/

and swore our own would mix free.//

The Guild

Only those of us who have ever played way too many roleplay hours on the computer will get this one. I came across a Dark Horse Comic called, The Guild. It's about a geeky circle of individuals whose lives become interwoven as friends from cyberspace and meet in reality. Check out the show: The Guild. "It's Special."

Joker bamah

I love it, finally some one has the balls to make fun of him; even if it was for a Time magazine cover.
Some say the picture isn't as evil as a government plan to annex health care. Others say Obama is fair game since George W. Bush was portrayed sprouting devil horns, elephant ears and Alfred E. Neuman's "What me worry?" gaze. Others call the Joker picture clearly racist because of Obama's whitewashed face, darkened eyes and elongated lips.

Why does everything have to be "racist"? When you can make fun of a white republican, but because the guy is black; if we say we don't like his Socialistic politics it's racist, what a Joker.


The Watcher's Book of Books