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Yavanna

The Nimrodel Falls

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

When the mellyrn sowed gold in all darkness deep

Alone Nimrodel walked in bare light feet

Shadow and strife she could no longer stand

I hear her sound

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

A fragment of thought, penned in Linnethril's elegant hand. The page bears a small smudge: a trace of mossy green.

I hear her sound,
The gentle rustle of her hair;
The rubbing of her arms together,
Upraised, in praise of Manwe's kiss.
Her scent I adore, green and heady,
Brought forth from the land;
Her toes, burrowed in soil,
Hallowed by Yavanna's touch.

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