Skalded
I have been asked to contribute a set of eleven poems to a forthcoming Moon Books anthology of poetry, so I have been beavering away (hence the lack of musings and meanderings here). A few more left to write, but here's a first draft of a poem about that ginger enigma Loki, written in fornyrthislag metre. Sigyn’s Burden Bound in chains, Wolf-child and I Deep in Darkness, Silently dreaming. The Aesir sigh, They sing of peace Yet the Grey Clan waits, Grim, unquelled. Poison torments, Time drips slow. By entrails enslaved, Such grief enchains, Laying me low, What loathsome fate! Eating my will, Each day dwindling. Once salvation ceases. When Sigyn empties Her humble cup, Agony heralds doom May Asgard fall, Mire Midgard Down in wolf drool! Despised sons