That peculiar woman who sits in an office dreaming up National and International days has, apparently, appointed the 21st as the day for enjoying poetry. Below is one of my poems, inspired by the comedic myth of burly Thor and elfin Loki cross-dressing as a blushing bride and lady-in-waiting to attend a giant's wedding and retrieve the stolen Mjolnir. Brain cells permitting later tonight I'll upload a poem from a famous poet or two that I admire, and spread the love.
Dragging Thor Out
Eight
leagues low, --- In lightless hole Was
short-shaft’s tool shrouded. Thrymyr
foolish, --- Freya fancied, On
luckless Loki burden landed.
Bitches
bound --- Bestow fire’s flash, Deal
brokered and broken (Oafs
earn no oaths --- Open wounds only). Homeward
then, webs to weave!
Thor’s
fury --- Freya’s thunder Asgard’s
rafters rattle. To
Horn-blower hie --- Hints dropped, Hiemdallr’s
plan histrionics harvested.
Falcon
feathers fall --- Fabrics festooned us, The
Thunderer frocked, fabulous! Falsies
but no falsett…