Yes, welcome.
All right, i was asked on a different thread to post this poem here (i couldn't do it there since it didn't concern what the thread was about), so...here goes. If you're wondering why i sound so nervous, it's because this is one of my earliest poems/songs, so...i didn't have the knowledge of poem-writing that I do now.

I mean, i don't think it's worthless...but still, posting it is slightly nervewracking.
Now, for
what (finally

) it's about. *ta-dum* Well, my first ever song about Arwen (from her point of view, actually--as opposed to a narrative) was written to the tune of...Jingle Bells.

(Well, i wrote it at Christmas time. I think.) The first part is to the verse tune, and the second part is to the chorus tune. The little bit in the middle is a bridge to sort of...explain things. Let's see, i hope i can remember it all...
Make ready, Aragorn--
The time now is at hand:
Soon the War will be
Raging throughout the land:
If the Ring's destroyed,
Then perhaps we'll win--
Either all hopes must blossom now
Or none ever bloom again.
Oh, if it comes to pass..
Wedding bells, Men and Elves
Coming together again:
When all is well, come to Rivendell--
The celebration will begin!
(If you're wondering why she says 'come to Rivendell' when in reality she went to Gondor, it's because i wrote it before i'd finished reading LotR.

)
Now, for a more recent poem, to get my self-esteem back up.

Lol, just kidding, but here it is. It's Stanza III of a long alliterative poem about the whole Mount Doom episode. I posted a bit from near the end a while back, i think. I hope you like it.
Together they toiled through terror and torment--
Sam led one he loved unto life's end and Last Goal:
Frodo slipped on a stone, in the soot downward sliding,
And fell in the filth where his footstep had foundered--
On the hard, barren heights in the heart of Death-horror,
In the dust of Mount Doom, eyes dark and soul dying.
He lifted his eyes to look on his long goal,
And grasped at a rock, his resolve unrelenting:
Unceasing to strive--now outstretched in the soil--
Fulfilling his faith with Free Folk--but he faltered:
Exhauted, strenth ebbing, his errantry ended--
The Questor collapsed neath the Curse that he carried.
Though final gasp failed, his friend came to find him,
Who'd so often saved him with sensible sweetness:
About that thin body, beloved and broken,
Sam's arms were fast anchored, as he rocked him, heart aching:
His darling daydreamer shunned down-to-earth dealing,
So Sam had to help him--his hope and safe harbor.
Sam cradled his master on Mordor's dark Mountain,
Neath fell burning Fire and fumes fanning foully--
Unquenchable Hope to his heart-friend gave haven:
Half-concious, the Questor was comforted closely--
His life on Sam laid--yet to Love's voice could listen:
The Ringbearer's Road on one rocking him rested.
Softly as sunlight, Sam spoke in the silence
Of beauty and bliss, of birdsong and blossom--
A yonder they yearned for, full blest by Yavanna:
He asked one his arms held, for aught else unable,
If still he remembered, though Ring had so ravished,
A land once he'd loved--a light filled with longing.
Eyes sad, Frodo spoke, from the Sun wholly severed:
There lingered no light to one lost and so lonely--
His memory maimed, without mercy of Morning
The Dark slowly deepened to drown one defenseless:
Naught veiled the Void, by Ring's venom invaded--
Eyes fixed on his friend, he was felled by dark Fire.
Sam's tears fell in torrent, by tenderness tempered:
"The Curse I can't carry, but come, weary Questor!--
My burden you'll be, though my back should be broken:
You'll fail nor fall--at the Fire we'll finish!--
Dread nothing, my dear one." In Death's shade and darkness,
Sam lifted his loved one, to linger no longer.